


Hi-Jinx with Jack

by fhsa_archivist



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Drama, Established Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-17
Updated: 2008-02-24
Packaged: 2019-02-05 17:39:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12799122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhsa_archivist/pseuds/fhsa_archivist
Summary: Torchwood hi-jinx, along with a little Jack/Ianto/Gwen snogging.





	1. Fallout

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

  
Author's notes: Notes: this story is pre-second season. I'm sure a lot of my extrapolations will be null and void by the time we are halfway through season 2, so I will incorporate what information I can if I chose to do another story. Don't expect canon, I tend to do my own thing; expecially if I think the show's writers didn't catch something.  
(Combat training information was taken from the following website: http://www.stormpages.com/handtohand22/)  


* * *

*** 

A tapping came from the metal hatch above. Jack glanced at Ianto, snoring softly into his shoulder. They really hadn't done much, some fooling around, playful interaction with each other, before Ianto fell asleep against Jack's shoulder, arm slung across Jack's belly in a comfort-need. Ianto was a good bed-partner, he didn't hesitate to try whatever Jack suggested, and even suggested a few things himself. 

He reached to the button on the wall of the old bunker. 

"Who is it?" he quietly asked. 

"Can I come in?" It was Gwen. 

"Come down," he said. "Quietly." 

The hatch above opened and her pixy face peered in. She hesitated at the sleeping man and the musky scent of sex. 

"It's ok," Jack whispered. She climbed down, mindful of the noise. 

"It can wait," she whispered, making sure Ianto didn't stir. Jack patted the side of the cot and she squatted down next to him. 

"What's on your mind?" 

She scratched at the edge of the cot, not quite looking at him. 

"Couldn't sleep," she said. "Kept turning over but no one was there." Tears made their way down her freckled cheeks. "This is my fault." 

Jack flicked a salty drop from the top of her nose. "Yes, it is." She looked at him, surprised, and then disguised it. "Thought I'd lie?" he asked. "Gwen, I told you at the beginning to keep it together. I don't know why you didn't just tell him that your job was top secret and you couldn't talk about it. It would have been the truth and he would have had a chance at resetting his boundaries to either encompass it or not." 

Jack stroked a lock of brown hair, pushing it behind her ear before touching her sad face. 

"If you want to be held, come up," he said, patting his chest. She looked at the small cot and the two broad-shouldered men. 

"Not enough room," she said. 

"Plenty," he assured her, giving his chest another pat. "I won't break. Come on." 

Gwen saw none of his usual insinuations, and gingerly draped herself across the right half of his body. "Am I too heavy?" she asked. The frame creaked threateningly and she hesitated, looking at it in alarm. Well, if it could hold two grown men in midst shag... 

"No, I like people-blankets," he said. He put a hand on her back and brought her down to him, resting her head on his shoulder. She gave a watery smile and gave in to the warm, hardness of his body. His shoulder was soaked within minutes. 

Ianto woke up several hours later and paused, startled, at the third person in bed with them. 

"Fallout?" he whispered. Jack gave a nod. Ianto kissed him and eased himself out of the pile. 

Jack dozed as he waited for Gwen to wake up. She had had a rough year; he was surprised that she and Rhys had lasted that long. It was touch and go for a long time, though. Jack had, of course, researched Rhys thoroughly; if there had been anything he felt the man could have done to be a team member, he would have recruited Rhys and kept the two together. Unfortunately, nice though the man was, there was nothing out of the ordinary about him that would have been a benefit to the group or to the Cause. 

She eventually began to stir, snuggling into him before realizing that he wasn't the scent, or physical shape, she was used to. She sat up. 

"Good morning?" he offered. She looked at the empty space on the other side of him and groaned, slumping and covering her eyes. 

"God." 

"No, just Jack." 

She gave him a look. It occurred to her that his chest wasn't bare. 

"Pajamas? I never pictured you for pj's." 

He shrugged. "Sheets feel weird against my skin." 

"You'll drop trow at every opportunity but you don't sleep naked?" 

"Well, Gwen, if you want to see the package, all you have to do is ask." He reached for the sheet. "There's morning wood you can..." 

She jumped out of the bed and he chuckled. "Did.... what did Ianto say?" 

"About the package? Not so much what he said than what he did..." 

"Jack!" 

He smiled and swung himself out of bed. Gwen tried not to look at the skin showing above the low-riding bottoms; the curve above his butt and the line of muscle above his hips, dipping dangerously, invitingly, into the front of his pj's. He gave his spine and limbs a stretch, cracking a few joints in the process. It had been a while since he found himself at the bottom of a pile. 

"He didn't say anything," he told her. He tapped the wall and a hidden closet opened. It was filled with his clothes which he proceeded to pick through, hanging them on a rod until he had taken his shower. "He kissed me and went upstairs. Want details?" 

"No!" 

He chuckled again; she was too easy. "Listen, why don't you go use the showers, freshen up, and I'll take you to breakfast?" 

She sniffled and gave a reluctant nod. 

"Alright." She hesitated for a moment before putting her arms around his waist for a squeeze. "Thanks, Jack." 

He pecked the top of her head and squeezed back. 

"Anytime, honey." 

They didn't get to breakfast. There was a Christmas Tree eating family pets in Ceredigion. 

"There isn't!" Tosh exclaimed in disbelief. 

"Probably not a Christmas Tree," Jack said. "It'll take us about an hour and fifteen minutes to drive there, so pack accordingly and be sure you make the little boys and girls room before we leave." 

"It's a 2-hour drive, Jack, not one hour," Owen told him. 

"Not if I drive, Mr. Glass Half Empty. Ianto, hold the fort!" 

Everyone buckled up quickly and made sure their drink containers had their lids on tight. Jack was an excellent driver but he still drove as though he were trying to surpass the speed of light. 

"We need a helicopter, Jack," Gwen informed him from shotgun. 

"We have a helicopter." 

The team blustered at him. 

"And we're driving across the country why?" Owen demanded, leaning in from the back. 

"Because I wanted to drive. Are you in a rush?" 

He swung around a corner, scaring an old man and his dog. "Sorry!" he yelled out the window. A cane was raised and shaken at him. 

"We have a helicopter and we never use it?" Gwen asked. "Why?" 

Jack shrugged. "I like to drive," he repeated. 

"Control freak is what you are," Owen informed him. Jack glanced in the rearview mirror, his face blank. 

"What's your point?" 

They grouched, slumping in their seats. Tosh booted the computer on her side and Owen dragged another computer screen over to play a game. 

Jack kept the smile to himself. "Tosh, tell us about carnivorous trees, please." 

Knowing she'd be diligent about the case, Jack waited while she pulled up the files. There was a rustling next to him. Gwen was taking a bite out of a chocolate bar. 

"Hey," he protested. She shoved the bar into his mouth and he took a bite. "'ank u." 

"You're welcome." 

While Tosh recited facts and figures, the countryside flew past. Although playing his game, Jack knew Owen was paying attention; Owen was quite capable of multitasking when he needed to. Gwen was still in a funk, as evidenced by the chocolate, but once they got to the job site she's snap out of it and get the job done. Tosh needed to relax, Jack decided. She needed a hobby. She'd look good in black leather. Maybe 6-inch heels. And they expected him to lead them. Moses he was not. Sometimes he wished for his former life, hopping from one planet to another, playing one con after another. No one to answer to, no responsibilities to anyone other than himself. With an indefinite lifetime ahead of him, though, pulling cons was suddenly petty. Sure, he had a nice stash hidden away for his retirement, but he had to admit that he was having fun on Earth. He wasn't sure he understood this need the Doctor had to help others all the time, though. Of course, there was the vested interest in making sure the humans lasted longer than their current century, or HE would never be born. The time paradox hurt his head. 

"Jack, are you listening?" Tosh interrupted his thoughts. 

"Yes, Dionaea muscipula and Nepenthes," he repeated. "But unless someone gave their flytrap a little extra get-up-and-go, it's too small, and the neps are in places like Borneo. No, the reports said specifically a tree. But keep going, something might be useful once we figure out what we're dealing with." 

"There are no carnivorous trees," Tosh told him. 

"Not on this planet," Jack agreed. "We don't know what's out there." He ignored the glance from Gwen; they knew he wasn't from their neck of the woods but he refused to get into details with them. They didn't need to know anything other than the fact that he was as human as they were. They all knew he went off with the Doctor every once in a great while, but having been born out there? No, Tosh and Owen weren't ready for the information, and he wasn't sure Ianto was quite ready for it; aliens were responsible for Lisa's death. Ianto still had some nightmares to get rid of. Jack was pretty sure Ianto was deliberately keeping blinders on. That was alright; Jack had spent his own time being blind in someone else's bed, too. In more ways than one. It helped. He did have to admit to some affection for the young man, though; Ianto was a sweet man, sensitive to the needs of others, and passionate in his dealings. He was discovering himself, the strength within, and Jack enjoyed seeing the process. He had more experience with Torchwood than any of the rest of the team, but his self-confidence was lacking strength. Jack noticed small changes, here and there, especially Ianto taking on more responsibilities such as going out on job sites and working the job. When he disappeared for a year, his absence caused the rest of the team to learn how to work together; Ianto had grown a great deal during that year. And although the team was no longer completely dependent on Ianto's services, Ianto still took it upon himself to be their housekeeper while the others were off on jobs. Jack was pretty sure Ianto was going to roast Myfanwy, their pterodactyl, if the flying lizard crapped one more time on the main stairs. Pterodactyl poop had to be the worst thing on the face of, well, any planet! 

Crunch. 

Jack looked to his left and held out a hand. He took Gwen's apple, took a large bite, and handed it back. 

"Do I need to say it?" he asked around the juicy fruit, glancing at the couple extra pounds at her waist. Not that he really cared; he thought she was beautiful. 

"No," she moaned. 

She reached into her bag and took out a handful of sweets. Jack took them and handed them to the back of the SUV, and then took her hand for a moment. 

"You're beautiful, he's an idiot," he informed her. She gave him a watery smile. "Who the hell, in their right mind, could leave those boobs?" 

She colored nicely, snatched her hand back, and bumped her head into the window. 

"Damn straight!" Owen piped up. "Great boobs! Fantastic boobs! Brilliant boobs!" 

"Shut up!" Gwen ordered. 

Owen leaned in over Jack's shoulder. "Just the slightest touch," he said in a stage-whisper into Jack's ear. Gwen smacked him on the arm. 

"Not cool telling tales, Owen," Jack told him. "I can tease her, you leave her alone. Or I'll tell everyone about your hamster fantasy." 

The girls squeaked in surprise. Owen frowned. 

"Oi! I never said that!" 

Jack nodded sagely, an index finger pointed at the roof of the SUV. "Ah, but who are they more willing to believe? You or me?" 

Owen flung himself back into his seat. "You can be such a bastard." 

"Yes, so my mother told me." 

"Do you have a mother?" Tosh asked innocently. "'Cause we've noticed that you and Myfanwy have the same eyes...." 

Pleased with himself, Jack was quite happy to discuss his dubious parentage via the pterodactyl. Actually, his mother was beautiful and loved him to pieces.... 

They were in Ceredigion before they knew it. The police met them at the home in question, introduced them to the home owners, and sat back while the team did their thing. They looked at the ground around the edge of the cliff behind the house and down to the ocean beating against the rocks below. There were scuff marks around the yard, as though a bush was dragged through, and there were red splotches on the ground. 

"Blood," Owen said, lifting a cotton swab to the sun and squinting at it. He capped it and stuck it in his jacket. The home owners were watching nervously from the fence at the front of the house, as were several neighbors standing around them. None of the trees or bushes looked unusual, nothing was out of place. Jack looked around, stuck his hands into the pockets of his greatcoat, and kicked at the roots of an old tree. It kicked back. 

"Found it!" he yelled as he took a step back. The team came running, guns drawn. "Now, now," he said, waving them down. "Let's make sure its bark isn't worse than its bite." They'd get him for it later. "So," he addressed the tree. "Anyone home? These people are a little upset about you eating their pets. Is there anything else you can eat? And I don't mean us. Pets are important to people, here, and eating them makes people very unhappy." 

They waited. 

"Nothing," Tosh said, watching the readouts. 

"Are you from around here?" Jack asked it. "We could try and help you get home. Gotta talk to us, though. Can't help unless we know what's going on." 

They were pretty sure they heard a rumble and it didn't sound friendly. Jack reached into his pocket and took out a lighter. He flicked his bic and the tree gave a violent shudder. 

"Talk," he ordered. "Find a way to make us understand you." 

Branches reached out and grabbed him, lifting him high into the air. His team yelled and aimed their guns. 

"Don't shoot!" Jack yelled. "You'll hit me!" 

"And that's a problem why?" Gwen yelled up. 

Jack quickly thought about it as thinner branches squeezed, wrapping around his torso and holding him secure. "Point taken. But shooting a bullet into wood is a little redundant, too." 

Small twig branches wrapped around his head like a crown of thorns, piercing the outer most layers of his skin. Jack cried out from the pain, feeling the warm trickles of blood fall down his face and neck. His brain was buzzing, filling his ears with white noise. Images began to invade his mind, the fall through the Rift, drifting along on air currents, following the smell of the sweet, tangy ocean, and landing on moist grass. Roots began to grow, genetics deciphered and adapted to local plant life. Great amounts of water were missing, as were the creatures that lived in the water. In adapting to the local surroundings, small mammals began to disappear. The tree was small and growing, only a little blood was needed, once in a while. No one noticed a bird or squirrel that was no longer there. But then the locals began to crack down on feral pets. Stray dogs and cats became less and less of a nuisance in the neighborhood. It had to take any mammal that came within reach. 

"I sympathize, I've been hungry, but you can't continue with this," Jack said, breathing through the pain. "I can send you back through the Rift; I don't care where you end up from there or what you do. You cannot stay here. Leave or we turn you into kindling." 

He could sense its questions about him. He didn't belong on the planet, either. "I'm human," he told it. "I belong here more than you do." 

"You there!" he heard Gwen shout at the people at the front of the house. "Someone bring me an ax!" 

The tree shook and dropped Jack. He landed hard, the wind knocked out of him. The needle-point marks on his head disappeared before any of the civilians saw them. His arms were grabbed, and he was dragged across the yard and out of the reach of the tree. Gwen picked up the ax and took aim. 

"No," Jack groaned, holding his side as he rolled over and up. "It's going to head back into the Rift. It didn't know where the Rift was. I showed it." 

"Oh? And what's it going to do, walk across the country until it gets to Cardiff?" Owen questioned. 

"Some sort of reproduction process," Jack said, wincing as he took a breath. "It'll pop a pod and take a tail wind over. I gave it the reproduction time to get it done. If it isn't, we'll be back to deal with it." 

"How did it communicate with you?" Tosh asked, her dark eyes bright with curiosity. 

"Directly into my brain," Jack said. "I don't recommend it." 

Jack told the homeowners that they put a poison in the tree roots. It would be dying soon. No, they didn't know what had happened to the tree, but maybe it got mixed with the genetics of flytrap or something from the Asian jungles. Just keep their pets near home for a couple of weeks, until the tree was dead. They'd be back to dig it up and haul it away for burning. The locals were satisfied. 

"No, you don't," Gwen said, snatching the keys from him as he headed for the right side of the SUV. 

"I agree and I'm the doctor," Owen told him. 

"I'm fine," Jack insisted. Owen shoved him into the backseat. 

"You'll rest," he ordered. "And take a look into the mirror; you look like night of the living dead." Jack looked into the mirror and had to admit that drying blood all over the top half of his body was a little gruesome. Maybe he could take a small nap, he decided as he broke upon a bag of wet wipes and began to clean up. On the way out of town, they dropped a packet of ret into the town's water supply. By morning, no one would remember the carnivorous tree or their visit. 

Jack slept all the way back to the Hub. Since they were no longer in a rush, the trip was a little over 2 hours. They woke him up and he stumbled, groggy, into their secret offices. Ianto took one look at him and went to start a shower and find fresh clothes. 

"Do you need help, Jack?" Gwen asked, concerned as he stumbled toward the showers. 

"Ianto can scrub his ass for him," Owen informed her. Jack stopped and turned to storm across the room with a sudden burst of energy. 

"If you don't stop sniping at Ianto, and what he does or does not do, I will cover you in barbeque sauce," he said quietly into Owen's face. "Are we clear?" 

"Yeah," Owen said, looking cross-eyed at Jack's close-up. 

"Thank you, Gwen, but I'll be alright by myself," Jack said as he continued to stare at Owen. He whipped around and continued on to the showers. I don't know why I put up with that asshole, he snarled to himself. 

"Why do I put up with that asshole?" he asked Ianto as the younger man came into the room. Ianto didn't need to ask of whom Jack was referring to. 

"Because he's a brilliant doctor," Ianto told him. 

The door opened again and Gwen came in. She kept her eyes from drifting downward at Jack's perfect, hard body. With one set of showers, five people, and cramped quarters, privacy tended to go out the door very fast. 

"Jack, you can be all kinds of stupid, do you know that?" she informed him. He took his head from under the water, not sure he heard her right. 

"I'm sorry?" 

"You should be," she said. "Dammit, Jack, he's got a case of hero-worship and he doesn't know how to handle it. He wants you to notice him." 

Soap slid into his eyes and ears. "He what? Gwen, he doesn't want me." 

"I didn't say that," she said. "He needs your approval, and he hates himself for it." 

"Then he needs to get his head out of his ass because no one needs my approval for shit," he said, sticking his head back in the water and scrubbing at his dark hair. Gwen looked at Ianto. He shook his head. 

"He doesn't get it," Ianto said softly. 

"What?" Jack called out over the water. 

"Nothing," Gwen said, raising her voice so he could hear her. "Just.... Go easy on him. Talk nicer. And let Ianto handle his own fights." 

"Owen's a wanker," Ianto pronounced. "I don't give a shit what he says." 

Jack stepped out of the water and took a towel from the railing. "I will protect any of you," he told them as he scrubbed the water off. "I'll even protect Owen, if someone is going after him, but I'm tired of his sniping." Ianto took another towel and patted Jack's back. 

"I can beat his ass even if I'm drunk," Ianto told him. "Owen's sloppy at hand-to-hand." He slid his arms around Jack's waist from behind and pressed his mouth to the back of Jack's neck. "Thank you for taking care of me." 

Gwen smiled at them and left the room. 

"He's an asshole," Jack told him, not bothering to correct Ianto on his vision of his own fighting skills. He gave the hands on his stomach a pat and stepped away to get dressed. 

"Yes, he is," Ianto agreed. "And if you were trying to rise above the muck that he was born in, you'd be an asshole, too. You are an asshole, Jack; but we still let you live." 

"Yes, but you love my asshole," Jack said with a grin as he sat on a bench to pull socks on. 

"Yes, it's a great asshole, Jack, but your tight ass has nothing to do with learning how to play nice with the rest of the kids." 

"Enough of Owen," Jack said. "Let's discuss Gwen." 

It had been hard getting Ianto back to a human state of being after his Lisa had died. Winter had set in for weeks around the Hub. Sex had been rough, after the Lisa issue; both men had issues to deal with, and the mutual pain and using of each other helped them to cope. After Lisa died, with Jack being one of the hands that fired a gun, Ianto left for a week without contacting anyone. He came back and cornered Jack. Jack stood still, allowing the beating, until the man broke down, sobbing. Ianto came back to Jack's bed that night, curling up against him, and talked about his life with Lisa. Jack held him, his heart feeling the pain of the loss. Of all the races in the universe, humans had the greatest depth of emotions. The beating he took reminded him exactly why he was helping to protect the Earth. 

"Gwen," Jack called to her from his office door several hours later. She turned, raising her head to look at him over the computers. "Stick around, would you?" he asked. 

"We're going for pizza," Owen said to him. "You coming with?" 

"Maybe later," Jack said. "You guys go, I need to see Gwen for a moment." 

"Sure," Gwen shrugged. Owen and Tosh trooped up the stairs as Gwen shut her computer down and walked toward Jack. He ushered her into his office and shut the soundproofed door. 

"How are you?" he asked as he walked around his desk and sat down. He threaded his fingers behind his head, kicked his feet up onto the desk, and leaned the chair back. 

"It was a good day," she said, taking the seat in front of the desk. 

"You handled the crowd well," Jack said. "You're a lot more confident now then you were a year ago. Are you more comfortable in your position?" 

"Yes, I am," she said with a nod. "I still wish you'd be more open with knowledge, though." 

"Can you understand why I'm not?" 

She slouched a little, looking at her hands. "I don't know," she said, not looking at him. "I think.... I know that there are things we're not ready for, I keep getting the feeling that you are not only from out there but also maybe.... I don't know.... I know you have an American accent but how can you be American if you're from out there?" 

His hands moved to his stomach as he considered her. "I lived in America for a long time. Fought wars at their side. Who and what I am doesn't really matter, Gwen; I'm as human as you are, and I'm here and I'm working for my keep just like everyone else. Does that help?" 

"I suppose. I can only trust that you know what you're doing. You know a lot more about alien stuff, obviously, than we do, and you know more about galactic politics than we do. I'm trying to pay attention and learn." 

"You learn fast," he observed. "You not only learn facts but you also put theory together well. Do you understand how that sets you apart from the others?" 

He watched her face, the freckles standing out as she colored slightly. "I don't know about that...." 

"Sure you do," he interrupted with a snap of impatience. "You just don't want to notice it because this society finds it rude and anti-social to stand out. There's a difference between dominant and domineering. One day, Gwen, you're going to find yourself on the line; stand or fall. Take your stand, lead with compassion while taking the firm hand." 

She stared at him, blank. "I don't understand." 

He shifted his feet to the floor and leaned his elbows on the desk. "I know," he said. "One day, you will. That's ok. Change of subject." 

"Would you like to spend the night with me?" 

Her freckled turned funny shades. "Uh..." 

"No is an acceptable answer," he assured her. "It's an open invitation. Have some fun. Get a few screams out. No strings attached. I'd like to do all sorts of things with you. To you. Sometimes a good, loud orgasm cures all sorts of ills. You want one?" 

He was pretty sure she was going to hyperventilate. Her eyes were dilating, though, which told him a multitude of things. 

"I, uh... yes?" she squeaked. 

"Good," he declared, thumping the desk top. "Me, too. Anything you don't want to do, anything you'd like to try, you'll get it. Believe me, there isn't too much I won't do. Go out, get some pizza, have some fun with Tosh and Owen. Throw some darts. Dance a little. Go home, get a change of clothes, and come back here. I have work to do, so I'll be in here. When you come in, stop, take your clothes off, come around my desk, bend over the desk, ass in my face, and tell me to fuck you. Can you do that?" 

Ok, she wasn't hyperventilating but he was sure, now, she was going to faint. 

"Uh....!" 

"And while I'm fucking you from behind, Ianto is going to masturbate in front of you. When I'm done, he's going to continue the fucking. And believe me when I tell you he's got a few inches on me. You will be used all night, by the both of us, until you are completely worn out. Are we clear?" 

"No!" She jumped up, grabbed her bag, and ran out and up the stairs. 

Jack smiled, shook his head, and opened his computer again. 

It was half past one in the morning when he looked at the clock. He moved, groaning at the stiffness in his neck and shoulders. His strange physiology soon redacted the pain. Getting used to his new immorality has taken a temporary road down Insanity Way until he relaxed and got used to it. Although drinking one's self onto the floor was no longer fun because his body wouldn't allow him to get that drunk. So he stuck to water, tea, and coffee, usually. Alcohol just wasn't the same anymore, if you couldn't wake up shit-faced on a floor somewhere. 

How did he discover his new situation? Trying to steal a freighter to get off that blasted station was how. They shot him, of course. When he sat up and scared the bejesus out of everyone, including himself, there was such a commotion that he managed to escape the lynch mobs, find the Vortex Manipulator and use it before they got their hands on him again. He over-did it, though, and found his pretty-boy ass in 19th century Earth and the nifty machine destroyed through his own incompetence. Well, Jack might be a pretty-boy but he had a brain; Earth was legendary in his own 51st century, so he knew there were rifts on the planet. Since the Cardiff one was the most active, he knew the Doctor would be returning to it to refuel the Tardis. When Torchwood had grown enough that he wouldn’t be a danger to the timeline, he joined Torchwood Three and worked there during the Cybermen / Dalek Battle of Canary Wharf. After the destruction of Torchwood One, he rebuilt the Torchwood Institute and became the leader of Torchwood Three, much to the Doctor’s eventual shock. Jack smiled to himself at the memory of the Doctor’s face at seeing Jack in charge of Torchwood 3. He was pretty sure the Doctor deactivated the Vortex Manipulator just to irritate Jack. 

It had been trial and error on his part, learning to grow up and be responsible for his own actions. After the shock of almost destroying the Earth, and his own ancestry, over his own petty con games, it took a parental tongue lashing from the Doctor to knock sense into him. If life gave people lessons, his was learned while living through two centuries on primitive Earth. These people were dogged in their will to survive….. 

"Jack? Something wrong with your bed?" 

He cracked one eye to see Ianto moving silently around the small office. 

"She didn't come back," he commented from behind his eyelids. 

"Did you expect her to?" 

Jack shrugged. "I guess not. Would have been nice. I have a feeling she'd be a great partner." 

Gentle fingers massaged his temples and worked their way down to his neck and shoulders. Jack forced himself to relax into it. He couldn't remember the last time he had a sexual partner that gave instead of demanding attention. Jack was tired. Not that he'd admit it to anyone else. And he had to thank Whomever was listening for Ianto. Was it love? He didn't think so. Affection, sure. He was aware of Ianto's love/hate relationship with himself; Jack didn't take it personally. Ianto's insides would figure itself out. Ianto didn't have a family, none that was worth touching in with, so the team was his family. They bickered like siblings, they may as well be their own family. Jack was the big brother and their father, and comforting lover when needed; sometimes a body needed a good orgasm to get past whatever was ailing it. Strong shoulders and long arms were also good for comfort. Jack could provide whatever he needed to provide. Hey, he lived through the 60's in the USA; there wasn't much Jack wouldn't do when it came to physical pleasure. And the pleasure planets he had been to.... well, there really wasn't much Jack couldn't do. Having someone give, instead of take, was a novel experience, though, and Ianto gave very well. Ianto was a generous lover and Jack appreciated it. 

"What do you think, Yan?" Jack asked as nimble fingers kneaded his neck. "Does she interest you?" 

"I suppose," came the quiet response. 

"You suppose? Do you think she's pretty?" 

"Yeah, sure." 

Jack took a hand and pulled the young man around. "I need to hear better than that, Iefan," he said. He used Ianto's given name, instead of the nickname; Ianto knew Jack wasn't going to let it go, not if the Name was used. "If she had taken me up on that crazy offer, would you have been ok going through with it?" Ianto hated it when Jack forced him to verbalize his feelings; Jack knew it needed to be done. Ianto had become more and more assertive over the past couple of years, thanks to Jack's pushing, and it was showing. Ianto could be trusted to take the lead on the smaller, non-threatening cases, now, instead of sending out Gwen, Owen, or Tosh who were needed at sites that were a serious threat to the community. After almost getting turned into the main course at a BBQ a couple years back, Ianto put the breaks on if his skin was involved. 

"I don't know," Ianto said. Jack took him by the hips and gave him a shake. 

"Does she turn you on?" he insisted. The young man turned red, his fair skin an easy mark for over-anxious capillaries. "I'll take that as a yes," Jack said and pulled him forward until he was straddling Jack's legs and sitting. "Now. If she ever does come to my bed, and if she's ok with it, you may join us. I'm not going to tell you to, this isn't an order, it's your body. Alright?" 

"Yes, sir." 

The Sir's were humorous, especially when they came during non-office, intimate moments. Jack was sure Ianto wasn't the hard-core leather type but he did seem to need to be bossed around, so Jack bossed him. It made the boy happy. Not that Jack couldn't use a good spanking, once in a while. 

In the morning, the troops trooped in with varying degrees of hang-overs and non-morning personalities. Owen was inhailing his Starbucks while Tosh went to commune with her computers. Gwen kept her head down and went to her work. Jack smiled briefly. 

"Combat training day!" he announced. He received moans and groans and threats of bodily harm. "Glad you're all with the program! We will be joined by MI5 at the local training facility. Get your game on, kids!" 

While Jack smiled at several cute men in uniforms (they returned the smile with blank stares), the team changed into their workout clothes. Their instructor and five other men began with basics, much to Owen's impatience. They had been through it more than once. Jack insisted on working on fighting skills or target practice during slow times. He had even taught the nimble-fingered Owen how to pick pockets. 

"Defend yourself with both arms in front of your body, close to the centre line. Keep your arms only slightly tensed. Wait until your fist moves out. Then increase the impact by moving your shoulders, hips, legs and feet towards the target. Breathe out during the punch. Just before contact, tense the fist and lock your wrist so that the hit is solid. To reduce ligament and joint damage, the arm is never thrown out to its full extent. Finish the punch with your arm still slightly bent. For the recovery and your defence, relax your retreating arm slightly and get back on guard." As the head instructor instructed, his assistants were demonstrating. He had worked with the Torchwood group before, so he ignored most of the antsy pushing and shoving; their boss would deal with them, if they got too rowdy. 

"The basic punch starts with the fist palm up against the hip. Your feet should be in line and shoulder width apart. Imagine that at arms length there is a centre line from head to toe and you direct your punches into it. On the full thrust of your arm, the palm of your hand is facing down. To lock your fist for the impact, push the thumb side of your fist forward. The back of your fist should be straight with the forearm and locked so that the wrist can cope with the impact." 

The ladies made a few practice punches, following the example being set by one of the men. A couple of helpers went over to reposition arms and stance. Tosh reddened, flustered at the attention from the handsome young man. He smiled back at her. Jack happened to know that the young man was single and lived nearby. 

"In some standing or grounded situations you may become either blinded, stunned, shocked or surprised. Do have a set of well rehearsed techniques that do not rely on visual contact. They will occupy the opponent and give you time to recover. Trap their arms in a bear hug. This will allow you to stamp on their insteps, use head butts, or bite their throat and face. Grab a handful of hair and move back, pulling their head into a knee lift or slamming their head into the ground. Push the palms of your hands up the opponent's cheeks. Your thumbs will fall naturally into the eye sockets. At this stage use one hand to palmheel the lower body targets. If the opponent has their back to an obstruction, you can palm heel the chest area. This will whip lash their head into the wall and back into your head butt. Grab at their throat and attack the groin area with the free hand. Grab the groin area and attack the face area with your elbows or head butts." 

Jack didn't hear what Owen said to Gwen, but he saw the outcome; Owen got a look of pain on his face and he doubled over, grabbing his crotch where Gwen had kneed him. The instructor didn't blink as he continued. 

"Survival in combat can be attributed to many factors other than numerical and technological superiority. History has shown us that many a battle has been won by a weaker opponent who can disrupt the enemy with an sudden or unconventional attack. If you pull an opponent's hair it will cause a great deal of distracting pain. It will also make their eye's water. With a good grip on someone's hair it is possible to slam their head into the wall, the ground, your knee or head butt. When you claw at someone's face or throat, their natural reaction is to either copy the action or at least lift their hands in defence. This can be used to apply another technique in response to the opponent's behaviour. A strong grip can be broken by sinking your teeth into the opponent's hand, wrist, cheek, throat, nose, eye brows or the lower part of the leg. If you know the opponent's style, unbalance them mentally by breaking all their rules of engagement." 

Jack suddenly found one arm pinned from behind by a hand made of steel and a knife at his throat. Expecting a struggle, the man gave a startled yelp and dropped his knife, jumping away and clutching at his groped balls, staring in shock at Jack. 

"No foreplay in front of the children," Jack admonished him with a shaking finger. "Call me later and we'll talk handcuffs and knife-play." 

The trainer gave a faintly disapproving frown at his officer who should have known better. It wasn't the first time the Torchwood people had come in for a little training; everyone knew how notorius Captain Harkness was with both hands and mouth. 

The next problem came in the form of Owen. Not that anyone was surprised. Time and time again, Ianto took Owen down, plunging him face down in the dirt. Owen became angrier, and thus clumsier, making it easy for Ianto to shame him. The trainer looked at Jack. Jack gave a brief shake of his head and the men stayed back while the boys fought. The ladies gave groans of impatience and went to stand at Jack's side. When Owen was breathing more dust and dirt and blood than oxygen, Jack went up to them and squatted down, his greatcoat rustling in the dirt. Owen spit mostly blood into the dirt as he glared from Jack to Ianto and back. 

"I don't know what it's about and I don't particularly care," he said quietly. "I might later. At the moment, though, you're grounded. Go to your room. And you're on Myfanwy detail for a week starting today." He knew whatever it was, wasn't Ianto's fault; Ianto didn't start fights. Owen, however, could find insult in a sunny day. 

Owen snarled and yanked himself up, stumbling off to their SUV. Jack took his coat off and settled it neatly over a short fence before rolling up his sleeves and joining the rest of his team. 

"Even out the playing field," he said. "Let's continue." 

It amused the instructors to see Ianto and Gwen setting up a take-turn schedule to use Jack as their pounding board. Getting Tosh to take a swing at him was another matter. He knew she could get angry and knew she could clobber someone, if she needed to. 

"Just do it, Tosh," he said, motioning for her to come at him. 

"I can't," she said. "You're too tall for me. How am I supposed to immobilize you from down here?" She pointed at the top of her head. 

"That's easy," Gwen said. With a gleeful grin, she yanked on Jack's arm, pulled it behind his back, grabbed the scruff of his neck, and shoved him into the fence face first. "Spread 'um, you're under arrest!" she yelled in his ear as she frisked him with one hand and hobbled him with one knee crunching the back of a thigh. She slapped cuffs on him and attached him to the fence. 

Jack was laughing while Tosh looked on in shock. "Gwen! Honey! I didn't know you cared!" he howled in laughter. The instructors were laughing, too, and clapping. When she released him, Gwen was laughing with him. He hugged her, lifting her off the ground, and declared the day completed. 


	2. Just Who's In Charge, Anyway?

  
Author's notes: Summary: Jack gets a new playmate and new quarters before a visit from an old friend.  
  


Note: reminder that I am in my own little AU. I tend to write in series, and it’s next to impossible to keep up with canon when you write a series. I’ll do my best to incorporate canon when I can.  


* * *

*** 

There was something majestic about a pterodactyl flying over a pond as it searched for a tidbit to eat. They didn’t always have to toss in some poor animal and douse it with barbeque sauce in order for the flying lizard to find its food. It liked to fish, too, so they kept the pond stocked with well-fed salmon, tuna (while they were still small enough to fit), and whatever else came up on the market. On hot days and nights, the water fall and the pond looked inviting; the smell, however, was pure dino-sewer. No swimming in the pond. 

That didn’t stop Jack from standing at the window and watching their pet glide through the air and up into the top recesses of the cave where the creature had its nest. 

“I have to go,” Ianto said in his usual quiet manner. Jack tightened his arms possessively around his waist from behind and bit playfully at Ianto’s shoulder. Ianto smiled and laced their fingers. “Now, Jack, I asked you several times if you wanted to go; you still can, you know.” 

“Can’t you go on another night?” The smell of the man was intoxicating; Jack would have liked nothing more than to climb from head to toe along his Ianto. 

“And risk being out when an intergalactic war starts? No, thank you. We’re quiet, so I’m going. You promised me a date to make up for the one we missed.” Ianto leaned his head to the side to allow for the meandering lips. 

Jack grimaced before discovering a tasty ear lobe. “How can I grope you, if we’re in a crowd?” He reached down and offered an example of the groping process. Ianto’s pants were still unbuttoned, the fronts folded open. Jack slid his hand through the dark curls. He was stopped by another hand. 

“No, I’ll miss my movie,” Ianto said. Jack pouted and turned the man around. He leaned back against the conference table and dragged Ianto between his legs. The shirt was also still open, so Jack took advantage of it and attached himself to a small, hard nipple. Ianto chuckled and allowed it for another minute before Jack felt his ears taken and his head lifted. His pouting lips were pecked. 

“Please come with me, Jack,” Ianto begged. Jack sighed and sat fully on the table. 

“How about a drive-in movie?” he offered. It had been a long time since he had felt this way about another person; Ianto made his heart go pitter-patter. The rebel in him told him to run –fast- while his common sense told him to keep his ass where it was. “We can make-out in the van.” 

“This movie isn’t playing at the drive-in.” Ianto pecked his mouth again. “But at least you offered a compromise. There’s hope for you, yet.” 

“Really, Yan, I need some quiet time,” Jack said. “I have some work to do. You go and have fun. I want you to. Really.” 

Ianto put his hands on Jack’s shoulders, looking deeply into his eyes. Jack often worked at night, when the others were gone; it was the only time he could work on Top Secret files without getting pestered. The team wasn’t ready for certain information; Gwen might, in time, but Jack wasn’t sure of the others. After Ianto whined once too many times about it, Jack read him a paragraph from a file. Ianto’s eyes grew blanker and blanker until he held up a hand to stop the verbal and mental torture. 

Jack pressed his mouth to the center of the hard, bare chest, drinking in the youthful testosterone scent. There was a familiar buzz in the back of his mind. “It’s ok, Gwen, come in,” he called out. The young woman stepped into the conference room, her eyes flickering back and forth between them. They all received training in basic psychic techniques, with Jack, Ianto, and Owen being the better at it than the women. Jack could usually tell when someone was nearby, and could sometimes get into someone’s head. The signatures of his team members were familiar to him, especially Ianto’s and Gwen’s. For some reason, the Doctor pushed him at practicing this when he was last on the Tardis. The Doctor had no idea why Tosh had been unable to penetrate Jack’s mind, after being told about the incident with the necklace. The Doctor tried to get into Jack’s mind; he didn’t succeed. They finally concluded that Jack’s multitude of resurrections had somehow changed his brain chemistry enough that it would take someone stronger than the Doctor to break his nut. He seemed to know something Jack didn’t, though, and was refusing to say what it was about. 

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting?” she asked as Jack began to button Ianto’s shirt. He kissed a spot of flesh before completing his task. 

“Nope. Ianto is off to a movie,” he said. “Apparently it’s more important than staying here and fooling around.” 

“Waaa,” Ianto informed him in his usual dry tone. 

“Oh. That’s nice, Ianto,” she said with a quick smile. “How’s your new flat?” 

“Comfortable,” he said, taking a step back when Jack was done tucking him in. Jack watched him. “Thanks again for helping with the move.” Ianto’s previous flat was on the other side of town; he found one a few blocks away from the Torchwood offices. Jack had gone flat hunting with him, making sure neighborhoods matched his security specifications. Ianto was amused in his exasperation; he knew Jack was being the overly cautious boyfriend. Jack, for his own part, wasn’t about to let Ianto live someplace that required a bodyguard to walk him home at night. 

Gwen smiled and waved a hand at him. “You’re welcome,” she said. “It wasn’t a problem at all. Well…. I didn’t mean to interrupt; I left my wallet at my desk.” 

Ianto glanced at the clock and panicked. “I’m going to miss it!” he announced. Jack held his face up, received his kiss, and Ianto hurried out the door. Jack cranked his head around to watch the cute rear end rushing away, and then slowly fell backward onto the table, lifting his hands to his face for a moment. He heard light footsteps come around the table. 

“Are you in love with him?” Gwen gently asked as she put her elbows on the table and leaned in. 

“I love him,” Jack said from inside his hands. “I don’t think IN love is the word, but I love him.” Maybe. In time….. He didn’t want to think about it. 

“He’s sweet,” she said, giving him a smile. “Empathetic. He leaves us chocolate and PMS medicine a day before we’re due.” 

Jack lifted his hands and wrinkled his nose. “TMI,” he informed her. “And I don’t know if I’d count that as evidence of empathy; could be he’s been keeping track through Owen’s charts on you girls. Are you telling me he’s left you chocolate and pills lately and that I won’t be getting any from you this week?” 

“No,” she said, unsure of which question she was answering. She took a step at the same time he arose from the table, running into him. Jack steadied them by putting his hands on her arms. 

“Sorry,” they said together. He stared at her for a moment before releasing her and continuing out into the main room of the hub. She rummaged at her desk and picked up her wallet, holding it up in triumph. 

“Gwen, that could have waited until morning,” he said quietly. “You want to give me the truth?” Her smile fell. The hub was silent except for a gentle hum of equipment and the sound of the waterfall in the distance. 

“I’m not sure,” she whispered. 

Jack took a desk corner and folded his hands over a knee as he considered her. 

“You don’t strike me as the wallflower type,” he said, having seen the dark flames in her eyes on many occasions. “You go after what you want, once you make your mind up. I know you want me, I’m not blind; I want you, too. If you’re not ready, that’s fine, but at least be honest with me.” 

He watched the war within her, and wondered why he just didn’t seduce her like he’s done with other women he’s wanted. Respect. That was the word. He respected her, unlike most people he’s met. It has been a long time since he respected a lover, and now he had two at the same time. 

“I don’t...” she started and took a step toward him. “You’re not a shag,” she said. “Not like Owen. This could hurt me. And you love Ianto. I don’t want him hurt, either.” 

“Come here,” he said, holding out a hand. She came closer and put her hand in his large paw. His hand dwarfed hers, making hers look like a child’s hand. “In my time, issues like this don’t come up, Gwen,” he said quietly. “I know it doesn’t seem like it but I can love, and I can love more than one person at a time. Yes, Ianto’s feelings mean a great deal to me and I wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. I discussed this with him and he’s fine with it. If you want him, too, he’s interested. If not, that’s ok; it wouldn’t stop us from sleeping together, he just wouldn’t join us.” 

She gave a nod, looking down at the floor. “And if I had walked in on the two of you doing something?” 

Jack shrugged. “A few minutes earlier, you would have. Stay and watch or join us,” he said. “Or laugh it off and leave. Sex is fun.” 

“I can’t be like that,” she said in a whisper. “Not with you. If I agreed to this, it would hurt me if you were with someone other than Ianto or me. Can you understand that?” 

“Yes, I understand,” he said. “Have you noticed me having sex with anyone else since Ianto and I began officially dating?” 

She thought hard about it, not having thought about it before. “No, I haven’t.” 

He gave her hand a shake. “No, I haven’t,” he confirmed. “Gwen…. if and when I fall in love with someone, I’m the one who will be hurt. Do you know why?” She shook her head. “Because I will have to watch that person grow old and die.” 

She thought about it. He could see her struggling with it and waited. “Soooo. Closing your relationship with Ianto means you’re serious about him.” 

“Yes, I am,” he said. 

“Buuuuut…. you’re inviting me in,” she continued. 

“Yes, I am.” 

“You…. you don’t love me, though,” she said, frowning as she shook her head. 

“Why not?” he asked. “Gwen, I consider you a very close friend and that’s how I love you. I don’t say this lightly; if you knew who my ‘friends’ have consisted of in my past, you’d understand. I don’t know if I’m capable of anything deeper, I won’t lie to you about that. I am offering you a safe partner, someone to hold, someone to talk with, to discuss your day with, to laugh with, and to joke with. I’ll tear into you as your boss, and I’ll listen to you bitch about your boss when you’re off the clock. I’ll probably even agree with you. If you don’t want to sleep with Ianto, that’s fine, but he’s your friend, too. Go out with him, take in a movie and dinner together. You can bitch about that jerk of a lover you have together, and compare notes. He’s a very good conversationalist, he’s smart, quick, and does great hugs. If you let him.” 

She listened, took a deep breath, and stepped closer. He knew the subject of multiple partners was not only a strange one for her, but also a dicey one. She messed up with Owen just after she arrived to their group; Jack could understand how it happened. Owen would shag a sheep, if it gave him the eye. Scared young ladies, especially pretty young ladies, and a few pretty young men, were always in danger of being cornered by Owen. Jack knew Owen didn’t physically harm them, from what he had seen Owen was a decent lover; Gwen had been too vulnerable, at the time, though, to deal with Owen in a more sensible manner. As far as Jack was aware, she had never told Rhys. Gwen wasn’t the love ‘em and leave ‘em type. Her time with Owen was more shock therapy, than anything else. Jack couldn’t treat Gwen that way. He usually stuck to women who only wanted to use him, too, and he was fine with that, but Gwen was different. He needed her to come out of this in one piece, and he knew that neither he nor Ianto would hurt her. 

“How are we going to work this, Jack, a schedule?” 

He released her hands, stood, took her face in his hands, brushed her hair back, and looked closely at her cute freckles for a moment. “We’ll work it out.” He smiled softly, not remembering when the last time he had seen a woman so beautiful in such a girl-next-door face. She stilled in his hands, allowing his soothing energy to wash over her as she looked at his blue eyes. His lips touched hers. He ignored that small jolt, the same one he felt when she pecked his mouth on the first day, thanking him for something…. he couldn’t remember…. damn. Ianto soothed his heart and Gwen was soothing his mind. Why couldn’t they have been born in his own time? 

Her arms slid around his waist and up his back as she opened her mouth to him. The closeness brought new sensations, such as the one that told him she had expected him to pounce and go ape on her. Did he give her that impression? Maybe he did. He took extra care with her, doing his best to make sure she didn’t feel trapped or used, and waited until he felt the tentative touch of her tongue before tasting the inside of her mouth. She clutched at his back, fisting the cloth of his shirt in her hands. She leaned into him some more, pressing close to him as she returned his kisses until she was breathless. From the condition of his body, Jack knew they’d work well together. 

“God,” she moaned, pulling back slightly. She was flushed and breathing heavy, licking him from her lips. Her face went to his neck and nuzzled her way around his collar bone, tasting the dip between them, at the base of his throat. He lifted his head, giving her room to explore as he pulled her close to him, pressing their bodies together. She felt good against him, her breasts pressing into his chest. Having her against him was physically different from Ianto, who was taller than him, but she fit together with him, her body curving along to his. He slid his hands down, cupping her ass and molding her to him. He lifted her in his strong arms and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her across the room to the hatch of his quarters. 

“You need a proper room, if you insist on living here,” she said breathlessly against his mouth. 

“I like my bomb shelter,” he said, equally breathless. He set her down and bent to open the hatch. Her hands caressed his ass as he was bent over. 

“We’ll discuss it later,” she informed him. Considering the fact that Ianto had been arguing the same thing for a while, now, Jack had a feeling he’d be moving his quarters sooner than he expected. 

He took her hands and lowered her down the tube. She carefully turned aside so that she wouldn’t put her shoes on the bed. Jack scurried down, jumped on the bed, and began to remove clothes. Gwen grinned and raced him to skin. Much to his surprise, she jumped him, sending him flying down to the narrow bed, and straddling his waist. He grinned back at her, growling low in his throat. He had seen her naked on several occasions, getting in and out of the showers, but those memories didn’t compare to her sitting on him, rubbing her center against his growing concern. He had been right –she wasn’t a wallflower. 

They knocked over books, scattered bedding and pillows, ensuring them a stern talking to from Ianto, and generally used each other any way they could. Gwen did have a couple of boundaries that Jack would have liked to plow through; he didn’t, though. She didn’t wait for him to make all the first moves, she made quite a few herself, making Jack laugh before gasping for air. 

Half the night later, they relaxed, breathing beginning to return to normal. Gwen’s skin began to cool, and Jack reached down, grabbed the blanket, and covered them both as he fell to the bed, turned on his side, gathering her into the curve of his body. She rested her head against his bicep, her hair wet with sweat. The new sense he got from her was one of safety and trust. 

“Should I leave?” she whispered when he was sure she was almost asleep. 

“No, of course not,” he whispered back. He pressed his mouth to her hair. “Go to sleep.” 

She held onto the strong arms around her and fell asleep. 

It hadn’t been easy for everyone when Jack came back from his year away. He could have cheerfully shot the Doctor for not bringing him back to a time closer to the one he had left. When he disappeared, there was a power struggle; Gwen had won the Top Dog’s chair. Much to Jack’s surprise, Ianto had backed her up, followed by Tosh. Owen had pissed and moaned about it, insisting that he was in charge because he was the doctor. Why shouldn’t Ianto be in charge, Gwen had argued? He had the longest record with Torchwood. He worked at Torchwood One before it was destroyed. He helped Jack rebuild it. He knew a hell of a lot more than any of them. Jack found the recordings of the Hub to be interesting. Time and again, it was Gwen and Ianto against Owen. Tosh had at least come out of her funk over Owen; her god had shown his feet of clay once too often. When she threw her hat into Gwen’s ring, at Ianto’s insistence that he didn’t want the job, Owen went to Torchwood One to complain. They kicked him back to Cardiff. Jack knew what TW-1 did; they showed Owen Jack’s video-taped statement should anything happen to him. He had made a strong recommendation that Gwen become the leader of TW-3. 

The quiet opening of the hatch brought Jack from his sleep. Ianto was peering in. 

“The others will be here soon,” he said. 

“Thanks, Yan,” Jack said, equally quiet. 

“Is she alright?” Ianto asked, looking at Gwen. 

“She will be.” 

While Ianto went to make sure the Hub was cleaned of all incriminating evidence, and had coffee brewing, Jack woke Gwen up. 

“We need showers,” he told her as he pushed the hair from her eyes. “We’re a mess.” 

Towels and fresh clothes were waiting for them both in the shower room. Gwen frowned, picking up one of her shirts. It had been ironed and properly hung. They stood under the strong spray of the water, letting the heat drench their tired muscles. 

“Are you ok?” Jack asked. Her face was lifted to the water. After a moment, she turned. 

“I’m ok,” she assured him. “No regrets, Jack. I’m glad this happened.” 

“Is it going to happen again?” 

She gave him a small smile. 

“Yes, I believe it will.” 

They helped each other with backs, rinsed off, dried off, brushed hair and teeth, and dressed. Jack knew he was in trouble when she went into his office. And closed the door on him. 

“Hey!” he pounded on the door. Gwen had cornered Ianto. And they were talking. He was beginning to think this was a bad idea. 

They were plotting something. Jack kept watching them throughout the day. Owen and Tosh would look at each other and then at the other three before shrugging. Jack knew he was pouting at the lack of attention, but dammit! Ianto had mysteriously disappeared into the tunnels after lunch while Gwen left the building all-together. Ianto had come back from wherever he had been, whispered into Tosh’s ear, and she disappeared, too. Owen was looking almost as miffed as Jack. 

Jack went back into his office, slamming the door. Wherever Ianto had gone, it was off the Hub’s radar. There were no CCTV cameras. Jack brought up the schematics of the Hub, tracing Ianto’s route through the tunnels until he lost him. Jack followed the schematics, trying to figure it out. He scratched his head. There was nothing back there except old storage rooms with piles of dust and God knew what else. What the hell was Ianto looking for? And why did he need Tosh? Tosh was the computer geek, not an archaeologist. He hoped he hadn’t made a huge mistake; he and Ianto hadn’t talked about what had happened with Gwen. He hoped Ianto wasn’t too upset. 

“What the hell are they doing?” Owen asked, plopping himself down next to Jack. 

“No idea. It better be good.” 

“Think they’re making out?” 

Jack briefly glared at him. “Highly unlikely.” 

“Did you guys have a fight?” 

Jack wasn’t sure if the question surprised him or the fact that Owen actually sounded sincere in his concern. 

“No, we didn’t,” Jack said. “At least, I don’t think we did.” He thought about it. “No, we’re good.” 

“Birthday present?” 

Jack looked at him. “What?” 

“Well, we don’t know when your birthday is,” Owen shrugged. “Not in your files. Actually, there isn’t much at all in your files. We looked. Maybe he knows and he’s hiding something for you.” 

Jack stood and stared at the tunnel entrance. “We don’t celebrate birthdays.” 

It was Owen’s turn to stare. “What? Where on this planet…. Oh, right.” 

“We have a mother’s day,” Jack commented as he watched. “More important.” 

Owen lit up. “Ah! So, wouldn’t that make it your birthday, also?” 

Jack thought about it. “I suppose,” he considered. “Never thought about it before.” 

“So… when is it?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Wha’chu mean, you don’t know?” 

“Owen, you know I wasn’t born on this planet,” Jack said, waving a hand at the high stone ceiling. “We don’t use the same calendar as you. It was winter when I was born. That’s the best I can do.” 

“Oh, well that narrows it down,” Owen said with a nod. “Don’t suppose you could guess on an age?” 

“Nope.” 

“Welllll…. how many mother’s days has there been for your mum?” 

Jack sighed. “Owen, I’m a time-traveler; you figure it out.” 

“Oh, right.” He twirled a pen. “Any siblings?” 

“Owen!” 

Owen spread his hands in an innocent gesture. “Look, neither of us knows what’s going on with those three, so unless you have something better to do, I do have a right to a medical AND family history. Right?” 

“Three!” 

“Three what?” 

“Siblings! All older sisters! I’m the youngest! Happy now?” 

“Ecstatic. Explains a lot, actually.” 

Owen’s cell phone rang. “Where are you?” he asked after looking at the caller ID. “What? Do I look like a bagboy? Oh, alright.” He closed the phone and slid it back into the holder at his belt. “Be right back; Gwen’s got groceries.” 

“Groceries?” 

Much to Jack’s consternation, a large, white, THING was pushed through the door several minutes later. Owen was backing down the stairs with it while Gwen guided from above. Ianto came running out of the tunnels. 

“Perfect!” he called out and helped Owen bring it down. 

“What the hell is that?” Jack demanded. 

“A mattress box,” Ianto told him. “What’s it look like?” 

“That isn’t going to fit in my space,” Jack reminded him. 

“It will when I’m done,” Ianto told him. To Jack’s even greater concern, the mattress was carried down the tunnel. The opposite direction of Jack’s little hole in the ground. 

“Jack!” Gwen called from above. He looked up. She was holding something over the side. “Catch.” She dropped it and he automatically caught it. 

“What is it?” He turned the large, plastic-wrapped bundle over in his hands. 

“Sheets.” 

He dropped them. 

“Catch!” He took several steps back. The new packages hit the floor. Gwen frowned at him in disapproval. 

“Good thing that was pillows,” she told him. “Or you’d be picking up the feathers.” 

Jack ignored the feeling of impending doom and crossed his arms, attempting to look stern. “What is going on?” he demanded. She skipped down the stairs. 

“Ianto and I discussed it,” she informed him. “Since you won’t take a flat like any normal person, and we refuse to skinny up and down that hole, we found a room that will work.” 

He went over it in his head a few times. 

“Work for what?” 

She picked up the sheet bundle, shoved it into his hands, and then picked up the pillows. “Living quarters. Come along, Jack.” 

He scowled at her back. “I’m not moving!” 

He considered tossing the sheets to Myfanwy for her nest but then knew his partners would make him tackle the beast to get them back. It wasn’t fair. He liked his hole in the ground…. 

“Jack!” 

He trudged up the tunnel. It must have been a good half mile hike to wherever Ianto had found. There wasn’t as much dust and cobwebs as he thought there’d be; Ianto must have taken his cleaning fits out on the old tunnels. 

Lights flickered along the hallway and he followed them. Rooms that he passed were filled with old boxes and filing cabinets. He made a reminder to himself to start going through them. “Where are you?” he called out. “We must be halfway across the city….” 

“It’s only a few hundred feet,” Ianto called back. 

Was that all? 

The room he stopped at had a steel door and frame. “What is this place?” 

“It’s the old vault,” Ianto told him. He came to the door and took the sheets from Jack’s hands. Gwen jerked her head, forcing the others out. She squeezed by Jack, gave him a gentle shove in, and followed Owen and Tosh. 

“But….” The room had been cleaned to within an inch of its life. There was even a small couch, table and chairs just inside the door, while the bed was being set up on several old, wooden desks that had their legs taken off, making them lower to the floor, at the far end of the room. The drawers were facing out, to be used for storage space. Ianto set the sheets down and put his hands on Jack’s shoulders. 

“I know you like where you are now,” he said gently, holding Jack’s blue eyes. “But I need you to stop living like a hermit. I understand why you don’t want a regular flat; we can’t have the neighbors disturbed by aliens and all, so I thought this room would do. It can be completely sealed against any airborne nasty, it has its own generator, Tosh will get a computer rigged up in here, and I won’t be hitting my head on the ceiling every time I leave. And it isn’t nice to make a lady climb in and out of that hatch.” 

Jack stilled for a moment before putting his arms around Ianto’s waist. “You’re ok with it?” He was kissed before his hair was taken in a fist and head gently shaken. 

“I shouldn’t be, but I am,” Ianto told him. “I could be biased, but it feels different. You and her, and you and me.” 

Jack smiled and slid his hands to the small of Ianto’s back, pulling him closer. “It is different,” he assured the young man. He used his tongue to gently part Ianto’s lips. “Get things set up in here and we’ll consecrate the mattress tonight.” 

They backed up until they hit the couch and fell onto it. Jack covered the body under him, sliding his knee between Ianto’s legs to gently rub into his crotch. Ianto moaned appreciatively and lifted his leg over Jack’s hip. Unfortunately, they didn’t get much further. 

“Jack!” Gwen hissed, hurrying into the room. She squatted down next to them. “Sorry, Ianto. Jack, the Rift just burped.” 

Jack thought about it and then dragged his tongue back into his mouth as he lifted his head. “It did what?” 

“Burped.” 

“Indigestion?” 

“Like something came through.” 

Jack leaned on an elbow and tapped thoughtfully on Ianto’s chest. He lifted the edge of Ianto’s shirt, peeked in, and regretfully put the shirt back in order. 

“Can’t be too big, if it’s just a burp,” he commented. He stood and straightened his clothes. Before exiting the door, he turned to the other two. 

“Do I need to be concerned about anything?” he asked. “Scorpions in my bed, black widows in the shower….” 

“Ianto and I are having dinner tonight,” Gwen told him. “We’ll let you know.” 

“Fuck.” Jack hung his head and left the room. “Just remember –I did discuss things first!” 

Was he wrong? No, he didn’t think so. Both had quite clearly agreed, with full knowledge and consent, to the arrangement. Interestingly, he felt no need to go looking for anyone else. His home world had silly laws about too much sex –as IF!- and even had medications and therapy forced on people who ‘over-indulged.’ Ok, so maybe part of his rebellion was being taken out in the bed. And everywhere else. But it felt good! Earth was hell during the 19th century, he LOVED the 60’s, and now people were finally beginning to relax. He considered all the conversations he had had with Ianto and Gwen, remembered facial expressions and tones of voices…. no, he was pretty sure everything was ok. 

“Sorry, Jack, it’s gone,” Tosh said when he came into the main work room. She brought up the replay and he stood behind her to watch the screen. The pulse of the Rift streamed across the screen and then a one-second bump before evening out again. 

“A burp,” he said, giving a slow nod. “Alright, just keep watch for a while and pay attention to the local channels for weirdness.” He patted her shoulder and she sat a little straighter at the attention. “Nice, Tosh.” 

What the hell else could go wrong? 

Ianto and Gwen continued to ‘decorate’ his new space while a miffed Owen tossed them irritated looks which they ignored, grumbling about the new chumminess of the two. Tosh was practically glowing at her computer screen, much more than usual, so Jack peaked in on whatever it was she was doing. IM-ing someone. He did a search on the other person’s ID and came up with the cute MI5 guy. Finding humor in the fact that Tosh was monitoring four other issues while chatting with the guy, Jack gave her privacy, logging out of his spy-eye with a small smile as he continued with the reading of his files. At least this potential boyfriend was someone he could approve of; MI5 knew what Torchwood did. He made a note of the man as a potential recruit. 

The bell for the upstairs door rang, and Ianto ran up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. 

“Jack!” he yelled down. “Need muscles!” 

Owen rolled his eyes and continued with his online RPG while Jack reluctantly, and nervously, went upstairs. Ianto was signing for a delivery. A large, wooden box stood in the center of the room which was passing as a run-down visitor’s center. 

“What is that?” he asked, risking a peek inside one of the doors. 

“An armoire,” Ianto said, obviously. “Where did you think you’d put your clothes? Come on, help me get it downstairs.” 

Being physically stronger, Jack carried the front end down the stairs at Ianto’s insistence. 

“Oh, lovely, Ianto,” Gwen crowed, giving him a pat on the shoulders as the men stood puffing at the base of the stairs. “Come on, boys, just a few more steps.” 

Jack was beginning to regret the new arrangements. 

“Oh, my GOD!” Owen groaned. “It’s Ozzy and Harriett! Something’s in the water! Has to be! Next thing you know, it’ll be yellow polka dot curtains, and mani’s and pedi’s for the lizard.” 

“Jack can do his own toenails,” Ianto grunted out as they carefully walked past. Gwen wrinkled her nose and nodded. 

“Can I have a pedi?” she asked, blinking winsomely at him. 

“Yes, you may,” Ianto said. “You have pretty feet. Unlike others.” 

“Do you want to carry this by yourself?” Jack grumped from the head of the line. 

“Are you saying she doesn’t have pretty feet?” Ianto asked. The water was deepening. 

“Lovely feet,” Jack quickly confirmed. Gwen smiled. Saved in the nick of time. 

They got the large, upright chest situated and Gwen began to polish it while Ianto ran for Jack’s clothes. Jack went back to his office. To hide. 

The crashed space ship incident in Tunguska in 1908 was much more interesting. A 15 megaton blast that felled over 80 million trees, with a 5.0 on the Richter scale, and people accepted the story of a comet breaking up instead of the exploding ship that it was. Jack remembered the incident; he raced halfway across the world to get to Tunguska and see what he could salvage from the downed craft, only to discover that the entire area was too irradiated to approach. He did get to the event site in the Eastern Mediterranean in 2002; he had to go diving for it, but he did manage to get a few items before six different militaries found them. Nothing much was left, a few fragments, but he took them anyway and put them into deep storage in the Vaults. 

He kept staring at the Tunguska files; he really needed to get back there with some of the more specialized equipment. There had been several of these ‘events’ around Russia, and one over Spain in the past few years, and yet no one has bothered to question them beyond what the government statements of what happened. Well, if anyone did bother to question it, they weren’t around anymore to continue questioning it. Jack knew cover-up when he smelled it. Torchwood had no reason to investigate, though, so he would have to come up with some other excuse. Not that the other agencies wouldn’t see right through him….. 

The upstairs door crashed. He frowned, swung his feet to the floor, and got up to poke his head out the door. 

“Jack!” a female voice demanded. “Where are you! Get out here, this is your fault!” 

“Five says she’s pregnant,” Owen said, slapping a bill on the desk. Jack knew that voice. 

“Who are you and how did you get in here?” Ianto demanded back at her. “You need to leave, miss, these are private offices.” 

“Rose?” 

Jack stood in the middle of the room, completely dumbfounded as the young blond woman stormed down the stairs. He warily eyed the large blaster she carried. 

“Honey, what are you doing here?” he asked as she came toward him. “I thought you were… away.” 

“Sir?” Ianto and the others stood, guns at the ready, waiting for orders. Jack waved at them. 

“She’s cleared for it,” he told them. “This is Rose Tyler. Her clearance is higher than any of yours.” 

Tosh frowned. “That name is in the database,” she commented, remembering. “She…. OH!” 

“Oh what?” Owen asked. Ianto and Gwen waited to hear it, too. 

“She… she and that Doctor fellow of Jack’s are the ones who saved Canary Warf! But…. you died in that… didn’t you?” They looked at Jack, standing and breathing after several ‘deaths’. 

“Do I look dead?” Rose snapped. She shifted her feet, leaning on arm on the blaster that was hanging from her neck. 

“Wait. Did you come through the Rift?” Jack guessed, beginning to panic. “Rose, what did you do?” 

“Me? I came to get your help,” she told him. “What’s it say? When one door closes, another opens? The Doctor didn’t count on that Rift, yeah? Can we talk here?” 

Jack gave a nod. “This is my team –Gwen, Owen, Ianto, and Tosh. If it’s something to do with the Rift, you can talk.” 

“Some weird tree says you sent it through and it was ok to eat our pets.” 

Jack groaned and collapsed across a desk. “Ok, someone kill me now. I’m cooked. Can’t take anymore. HELLO!” he yelled, lifting his face to the ceiling. His face then hit the desk again. 

His back was smacked. “It ate my baby sister’s rabbit! YOU explain it to her!” 


	3. Mine!

  
Author's notes: Ianto gets kidnapped, and Jack and the team find themselves in an unusual place rescuing him.  
  


Note: I’m adding a year to Rose’s time with the Doctor. I mean really, think about it —how long was Jack on the Tardis? No one knows. I’m giving him a year. So we have an unaccounted for year. That makes three years.  


* * *

*** 

Jack considered Rose’s words and lifted his head. “Jackie had a baby? Jackie Tyler??” He couldn’t believe Rose was standing in his Hub. The Doctor even considered her dead, since he couldn’t go between universes to visit with her. Jack had mourned her loss, when he had heard the story. And yet, she was standing there. 

“Don’t you start,” Rose warned, shaking a finger in his face. “You liked her stew and you danced with her.” 

He lifted his elbows to the desk and leaned on them. 

“Don’t I even get a hug? I really think I deserve a hug.” 

Rose rolled her eyes and put her arms around him. Jack smiled and hugged her tight, missing her smart, funny company. 

Ianto crossed his arms, waiting, while the rest of the team watched the drama. “Did you sleep with her?” he asked bluntly. Jack knew the tone; it was one that demanded the truth. 

“Yes, I did,” he said with a nod. “One year, tight box… what can I say?” 

“Jack!” Rose hissed, reddening. She pushed at him. 

“The TARDIS, Rose,” he clarified. “Although you were…. ouch.” He rubbed at his arm. 

Jack considered the fact that he was surrounded by Ianto, Gwen, and Rose. A brief speculation crossed his mind, and he kicked himself before it got out of hand. 

“Ok, ok,” he said, holding up a hand of surrender. “Let’s just sit down, CALM down, and try to figure out a plan. I’m more interested in how you got here, than I am in that tree thing. I will get your baby sister another rabbit. What’s her name?” 

“Emily,” Rose said, smiling as she followed him to the conference room. “She’s just two. Pretty,” she said, staring out the window at the waterfall and pond. Myfanwy was sleeping at that time of the day, so the scene was clear of flying dinosaur. 

“How’d you find us?” Gwen asked, making nice. Rose turned and sat, pushing her blaster out of the way. 

“There’s a Cardiff office on my world, too,” she said. “I was taking a chance that you’d have one here.” 

“You’re world?” Tosh chimed in. “I don’t understand.” 

“Alternate reality,” Jack said. “Long story, not in the files. Rose lives on an alternate Earth, in an alternate London. I take it you work for your Torchwood?” he asked, pointing his chin at her vest with the Torchwood logo. 

“Who better?” she asked. “Me and Mickie head up the investigation unit for the London offices.” 

“You and Mick together again?” he asked with a smile. 

“Now and then,” she admitted. “He needs a few more years of growin’. I’m still fond of father-figure types.” 

“Ouch,” Jack chuckled, clapping a hand to his chest. Ianto was glaring. 

“Oh, relax,” Rose told him. “His cute bum is all yours; he taught a young girl how to be a woman, that’s all. It passed the time on many lonely nights.” 

“He was your first?” Tosh gently asked, leaning in. “You seem happy about it. If you don’t mind my saying so.” 

“He’s a very good lover,” was all Rose would say, her face relaxing into a warm smile for him. He smiled back, enjoying the memories of teaching her how to make love. When the Doctor finally gave in, things got really interesting in the darkness of space. Apparently, the Doctor hadn’t known that the Tardis could make things vibrate, as well as decorate chosen rooms with pleasure toys from any world in the universe. To say they had fun would be an understatement. 

“So.” They all looked at Ianto. “How’d you get here?” 

Rose thrust a fist out. Ianto jumped. Jack saw the thing on her wrist and resisted the urge to grab it. “Where’d you get that?” he asked. The team stilled at his voice. 

“Found it,” Rose said. “Some kind of small, one-seater came through our Rift and crashed. Creature was the ugliest shade of green I’d ever seen. Looked like pea soup. Two week old, unrefrigerated pea soup. I liked this thing, though; looks like yours.” 

Jack leaned back, watching the wrist band. “Purple blood, red eyes?” He took a writing tablet and drew on it. “Wearing a necklace with this symbol?” Rose looked at it and nodded, not surprised. 

“Yeah. What is it?” 

He stared at it. “Not important.” Another Time Agent was dead. Jack didn’t particularly care about this one; Flssssrrrrr was always stealing from the other agents. The knowledge that it was dead, though, still hit hard; it was a connection to a life long past. 

Gwen was watching him. She knew something was up and he knew she’d get it out of him later. 

“You can’t have it, Jack,” Rose warned, pulling her wrist close. He shook his head. 

“I trust you with it. Only you, Rose. Just…. be careful,” he said. “You don’t want to meet the others. They can home in on it, so don’t use it too often. In fact, you should destroy it when you get home.” 

Rose looked at the wrist band. “Is it… am I in danger?” 

“Only if one of the others finds you,” he told her. “And believe me, you don’t want that. Your world doesn’t want a visit by them.” His team was beginning to look annoyed at his cryptic words. Rose looked at him and then at the band. She began to take it off. 

“If it’s going to hurt my planet….” 

Jack shook his head. “You’ll need it to get home,” he said. “Don’t worry about it now; I’ll give you instructions for destroying it.” 

“Alright,” she slowly nodded, trusting him. “Now. How do we get rid of that tree thing?” 

She was given an ax and a few bricks of C4. She wasn’t amused. 

“It’s a tree, Rose,” Jack said. “Made of wood. It burns. Turn it into tooth picks.” 

“I’ve met a couple of the Cheem,” she said. “Is this thing one of their race? ‘Cause I liked ‘um.” 

“This one is not a member of the Forest of Cheem,” Jack said. “I like them, too. I don’t know what race this one belongs to, probably from a different universe than either of ours, and it’s carnivorous. The Cheem are not.” He paused, a light bulb going off over his head. “In fact…. Rose, let me see that, would you?” He held his hand out toward the wrist band. She took it off and handed it to him. 

Tosh looked closer, seeing it more clearly, and seeing that it was a replica of the one Jack wore. He pulled back slightly, holding it upright so that the others couldn’t see what he was doing with the face of it. He opened it and leaned around to Rose while his team sat impatiently, used to his non-communication which pissed them off. 

“When you get home, open it and put the dials like this,” he showed her. “Attach it to a limb of that tree, and tell it I said to go back through the Rift and this will take it home.” 

“But where’s home?” she asked, taking the ‘watch’ back from him. 

“I don’t know. That setting will take it to the first place it thinks of. Make sure it understands that it needs to concentrate on its home world. I don’t think the tree is a bad thing, it’s just lost and out of its element.” 

She agreed and put the watch back on. “Before I go, I want something I haven’t had in a while.” 

Ianto stiffened. Jack reached out and took his hand. “Will you relax?” he stage-whispered. 

“Chips,” Rose said clearly, thrusting her face in Ianto’s direction. “I may be living in London, but it’s a different London and they haven’t figured out how to do proper chips. Himself may be good in bed, but the chips are more important.” 

There were snickers around the table. 

“Yeah, ha ha,” Jack told them, “looks like we’re having chips for lunch. Come on.” 

The team went for their jackets. Jack stopped Ianto and waited. 

“Who’s Jackie?” Ianto asked. 

“Rose’s mother.” 

“You danced with Rose’s mother?” 

“It was Christmas,” Jack said with a shrug and a quirky grin. “The Doctor took Rose home for the holidays.” 

“You haven’t taken me dancing.” 

“I will take you dancing. Will you chill out? Please? I had a fling with Rose; it was me, the Doctor, and Rose. Just the three of us, on a ship. I wasn’t about to turn into a monk; Rose is pretty, she wanted to learn a few things, I was available and willing.” 

“And this Doctor?” 

“Oh, he taught ME a few things,” Jack chuckled. “And no, nothing happened the last time I went away with him; all that was before I came here. This last time I went, we fixed a planetary problem, and yes, it did last a year, it was a very serious problem, and I came back. He asked me to stay. I’m here with you.” He took Ianto’s face between his hands, holding his eyes. 

Ianto gave a nod and accepted Jack’s kiss. Jack kept his arms firm around Ianto’s slim frame, holding him close as they kissed until Owen stuck his head in and snapped at them to quit being disgusting. Neither of the men were feeling pain when they finally unlocked their lips. 

The team had scrambled up the stairs, hungry, while Jack pulled his greatcoat on. 

“Jack.” Rose hovered to his side and leaned her head in. “What are you doing here? You’re the nearest thing we have to another Time Lord, and you’re playing footsie with pretty-boy? Are you that serious about him? Why don’t you just take him with you? You’re needed out there.” She jerked her chin toward the roof. 

He put an arm around her shoulders and smiled. “The Doctor’s right about us; I’m starting to understand the miracle of humans,” he said quietly, a soft light in his eyes. “They keep me sane, Rose. I’m closer to the people of this time, than I am with the people of my own time. This is my home, now.” 

“Yeah, but this must seem like the Dark Ages, compared to your time,” she whispered. “I’ve seen your time, Jack, remember? Thirty-two hundred years is one hell of a difference.” 

He simply smiled and pecked the top of her head as they walked up the stairs. Gwen was waiting somewhere nearby, he could sense her, and he looked at the upstairs door for her; Gwen may not be as intellectually smart as Tosh or Owen, but she was quicker. Jack didn’t want to answer her rather pointed questions if she heard the conversation. 

The rest of the team was waiting for him, and they began to walk down the street to their favorite greasy spoon. Jack looked around, spotting Gwen, who was walking thoughtfully a few feet behind him. He gave her a smile, which she returned before going back to her thoughts. He could usually get a sense of the thought processes, but found himself turned away at her ‘mental door.’ She was developing shields. Irritating, yet he approved; she’d need them, if she ever ran into some of the more psi-powerful races. 

“Where’s Ianto?” Jack asked. 

“He went ahead to order for us,” Tosh said. Jack nodded. Ianto needed head-space. He’d make it up to his lover later in the evening. Both of them. 

They chatted and laughed as they walked, and sat at the outdoor seats of the pub when they got there. The pub’s owner came out, folded his arms, and stared down at them through suspicious, knowing eyes. 

“No guns, no fighting, no messin’ with the clientele,” he warned them. Jack put a hand to his chest, wounded. 

“I’m hurt, Tom,” he said, frowning. “When was the last time we had to pay for damages? We’ve been very good.” 

“I got that window replaced six days ago,” Tom told him, flinging his rag in the direction of said window. “It’s the third window this year.” 

“We did pay for them,” Jack reminded him, giving his best whipped puppy eyes. The man squinted in distrust. 

“Your chips are ready,” Tom said abruptly. “You stay out here.” 

“Ok,” Jack cheerfully agreed. “Where’s Ianto?” 

“Sittin’,” Tom said. “I’ll tell ‘im you’re here.” 

Jack sighed and pushed himself into a standing position. “Let me get him,” he said. “He needs to talk.” 

The owner reluctantly let Jack into the pub. Only Jack. It really wasn’t the team’s fault that people chose to start arguments with them and cause them to destroy furniture, windows and mirrors. A few regulars were in for lunch; they paused to watch Jack swagger in. 

“Hi, boys,” he said with a friendly wave. He gave his wrist a loose flip and his hips a wiggle just to irritate them. Tom glared and pointed toward the end of the row of tables. Jack walked the row until he came to the end, gave the tables another look, and walked back. He considered possibilities and stuck his head in the men’s room, “Ianto?” Nothing. 

“Tom, are you sure he was here?” Jack asked, going back to the bar. 

“Carla!” Tom bellowed. The waitress looked up from washing down a table. “You see where Ianto went?” 

“Followed that flapper, he did,” she informed the entire pub. The men laughed and slapped tables. Jack frowned. He took their tray of food and went back out, smacking the tray down on the table, and pulling his phone out. He dialed and waited. There was no answer. 

“What’s wrong?” Gwen asked. Tosh and Owen slowed in their reaching for food while Rose poured vinegar on her food and bit into her fish with a groan of pleasure. 

“Can’t find Ianto,” he said. “They said he left with some flapper.” 

Owen snorted and shoved a greasy chip into his mouth. “Not likely,” he commented. “Probably playing boy scout and helping with a tire or something. Relax and eat, Jack, he’ll show up.” 

Gwen put a paper plate in front of Jack and handed him napkins. “He’s a big boy, let him clear his head,” she said to him. Jack looked up and down the street before reluctantly sloshing a chip through katsup. Rose watched him over her paper plate. 

By the time they were finishing up, Jack was completely unconscious of the fact that his hand was frequently on Gwen’s thigh with worry. Owen and Tosh kept up the conversation with Rose, getting stories out of her about her travels to other worlds, while they shot looks at each other. Owen finally gave his empty plates an irritated toss into the garbage. 

“Look, we can go back to the Hub and pick him up on CCTV,” he told Jack. 

Jack sunk his strong, white teeth into the last of his fish and shoved the paper away from him. He stood, whipped around, and took long strides across the street toward their offices. The others hustled to keep up. He didn’t care what they told him, his spidey-senses were telling him something was wrong. 

“Get those monitors up,” he ordered as he skipped down the stairs. His team started flipping switches and brought up the monitors on the CCTV cameras for their street, backing the recordings up half an hour. 

“There,” Gwen said, pointing. Ianto was seen walking out of the pub, a woman with very short shorts and a tube-top hanging onto his arm. Gwen took the image in closer. 

“No way in hell he’d walk out with someone like her,” Jack snarled, clamping his arms around himself. 

“Look at his face,” Owen said, reaching over to adjust the image. “He usually looks like a zombie, but not that much.” Ianto’s face was completely expressionless; not even his lips moved to respond to the animated yapping of the woman at his side. 

“He’s in trouble,” Jack said. The others finally believed it. “Tosh, follow wherever they took him,” he said. “Get me names, addresses, and their first borns.” 

“Too bad we can’t go back in time,” Rose commented. “You could narrow in on the voices inside the pub and see what they were talking about.” 

Tosh began to rapidly hit buttons. “We can,” she said. “Sort of.” 

An image of earlier in the day came up on the screens, just minutes before they got to the pub, according to the time log. Tosh brought the image closer to the pub, fixing the pixels, and narrowing in again. They could see Ianto through the window, sitting at the far booth that Tom said he had been at. Tosh played with sound, not wincing at the squeaks and squeals when the others did. 

“Sorry,” she said, not taking her eyes from her computers. She adjusted the sound again, taking out most of the noise and zooming in on Ianto’s voice. 

“Want a date?” A woman sat across from him and asked. 

“No.” 

Ianto’s nose was in the paper and didn’t rise from it. Jack smirked, knowing Ianto wouldn’t go for her. Not his type. 

“You gay?” the woman asked. “’Cuz I got a friend….” 

“No.” 

“No to gay or no to my friend?” 

“Please leave,” Ianto told her with an impatient huff and frown. 

“Look,” she said, leaning in, her boobs practically falling out of her small tube-top. “Would you just walk with me a little? Please? I just need to get away from these blokes, see?” 

“Do I look like a bodyguard? Call the constable,” he advised. 

“Actually, you look like an undertaker,” she said, eyeing his dark suite. Owen snorted. “How about just buying me a pint? I’m sure they’ll go away after a while.” 

The waitress brought him his own pint and set it in front of him, giving the other woman a look down her nose. The streetwalker gave her a rude gesture. Ianto gave his newspaper an irritated rustle, folded it –neatly- and got up to walk to the men’s room. 

“What was that?” The team asked at the same time. They leaned into the screen while Tosh hit the rewind. 

“That bitch put something in his drink,” Jack snarled as they watched the woman do it again. When Ianto got back, he saw the woman still sitting at his table. He picked up his pint and moved to another table. “No!” Jack yelled at the recorded image of Ianto lifting the mug. “Dammit.” Jack laced his fingers behind his neck and paced. 

Minutes later, Ianto was clearly feeling the effects of something as he stared off into space. The woman came over and whispered to him, “Come on, my pretty, we have a party to attend.” She eased him from the booth. He went with her. 

“Let’s go get him.” Gwen put a hand on Jack’s shoulder and gave the tense muscles a squeeze. 

Tosh made quick work of tracking the couple on the CCTV cameras around town, which was unaware that Torchwood had long ago hacked into their mainframe to boost the audio and visual aspects. Jack had, more than once, reprimanded Owen for being a peeping-tom. Sometimes, though, the local police would get an anonymous tip about someone being abused. Jack over-looked those peeps. 

Guns were passed out, Rose already had hers, and they hurried to the SUV. 

“Posh,” Rose commented as she slid into the back with Owen and Tosh, and heading to the back of the van. 

“Mine,” Jack growled. They weren’t sure which object he was declaring his. 

Be damned if some skank was going to steal Ianto. Fighting aliens all the time, and Ianto gets stolen by a local whore! Jack wasn’t happy. 

“That van they got into is modern; there’s a GPS signal,” Tosh called out. “It’s heading north on North Road, just past Blackwier!” 

Jack stepped on the gas and raced past the Millennium Centre, turning north onto North Road. He raced through stop lights, ignoring the tire screeches and honks from annoyed drivers. One car tried to chase him, lights flashing, but it didn’t last long; the car got the message to leave the Torchwood SUV alone. 

“Jack, we should let them…..” Gwen started. His jaw tightened. “Never mind. We’ll get him back.” 

So, yes, since this didn’t have anything to do with aliens, the job should probably go to the locals. Jack trusted Gwen; he didn’t trust the other police to get the job done. The bigger issue was who would want to kidnap Ianto? Was someone trying to gain access to Torchwood? Ianto, the man with all the keys, was certainly a good way to go about it; and with all the knowledge in the man’s head, someone would have a field-day with interrogating him. Jack needed to teach Ianto some anti-interrogation techniques. 

“It stopped!” Tosh called out, looking at the blinking dot on her screen. “Nothing but old farmhouses out there,” she commented, frowning in confusion. “The address they stopped at belongs to Reginald Bigsby. _Sir_ Reginald.” 

Gwen tensed. Jack took a quick look at her. 

“What?” 

“Well…. nothing was ever proven, and he IS a lord….” 

“Spill it, Gwen!” 

“Whispers, mostly,” she said. “That he employs, well, people who are not necessarily paid for their duties. And that his private parties are rather extreme. People have gone missing after attending one of his parties.” 

Jack’s hands tightened on the wheel. “So is Ianto staff or a party-favor?” 

“He’s pretty, Jack,” Gwen said softly. “We’re not far behind them, time-wise; we’ll get to him before anything happens.” 

He pulled off the road a short distance from the large mansion, and hid the SUV behind an old building. 

“Gwen, you and Rose see if you can find a side door or something,” he said as he reached into a compartment, took out a small thing, and handed it back to Rose. She put it into her ear. “Owen, with me; if he’s hurt, you get to him immediately. Tosh, get rid of their electronic security, stay here and monitor things, and have the SUV ready to grab us.” 

“Right.” Tosh gave a nod and jumped into the driver’s seat before bringing her computer screen around. 

“Are you sure about your friend here?” Owen asked, jutting his chin toward Rose. “We don’t know her; will she have our backs? Will she have Ianto’s back?” 

“I trust her with my life!” Jack snapped angrily, shoving the cylinder of his pistol back into place after checking it. “Girls, get going.” 

In fact, Rose _gave_ him his life, although he wasn’t about to tell that to Owen. Rose gave him a nod and followed Gwen through the hedges, ducked low in sneaking-mode. Rose had grown a great deal since first starting her journey with the Doctor; the pouty teenager had made way for the maturing adult who had more experience with death and fighting than any modern Earth young adult had a right to. They didn’t spend their entire time on the Tardis fooling around; Jack had also taught her how to fight and use weapons. Much to the pacifist Doctor’s annoyance; to fight or not to fight –that was one of the few things Jack and the Doctor disagreed on. 

“Security’s fixed,” they heard whispered into their earwigs. “I reversed the feed into a loop for them, and I’m getting the live feed; Ianto is below the main floor, along with about 6 others. They are being dressed in some sort of loincloth. And nothing else. He’s still dazed, by the looks of him. Wait, let me see… in the kitchen, there is a door to the left of the ovens. One of the others with him just came out from that door.” 

Jack touched his ear. “Great, Tosh; tell us when and where.” 

Tosh’s voice in their ears told them when to move and where to move to avoid people and get them into the mansion. Jack and Owen skulked through the library veranda door, hiding behind large, over-stuffed chairs when Tosh told them to duck. Voices moved past, commenting bitingly on the latest upset by Plaid Cymru. Jack had to agree with them but for different reasons; Lord Cadoc had been a fool to allow the Conservatives gain that lead. Should have listened to Lady Helen…. 

The halls were the trickiest part to get through, with servants hustling about and guests taking their time. About to head out again, there was a crash in the hall as well as a squeak of warning in his ear. 

“You idiot!” someone yelled. There was the sound of flesh hitting flesh. A slap. A tray had been run into by a guest, according to Tosh in his ear. Jack took a deep, silent breath and looked at Owen. They both forced patience as they waited for the mess to be cleared away. 

After what seemed like a century, “Go!” they heard whispered. There was no need to whisper, but it made Tosh comfortable. The men eased around the now open corridor. 

“Jack, Rose is up to something!” Tosh said urgently. “She…. she’s _knocking_ on the kitchen side-door!” 

Well, it wasn’t something Jack would have thought of…. Owen rolled his eyes in agitation. 

“The door is opening! She looks like a beggar… hair is mussed, face is dirty…. She’s asking for a handout… willing to work for it….. there’s arguing about it…. someone’s giving her a broom, telling her to wash her hands and face before being around the food. She can have a bite when she’s done cleaning the floor.” 

Jack jerked his head, and he and Owen eased their way down the corridor and into another room to wait for the all-clear. One room at a time, they came closer and closer to the kitchen. Jack willed the staff to all vacate the kitchen but he knew, with this size party, that the kitchen was never going to be empty. 

He quickly processed a few thoughts as he looked around. They were in a guest room…. he took a look inside the wardrobe. Gun passed to Owen, he began to take his clothes off, much to Owen’s astonishment. The clothes were replaced with a black tuxedo and bowtie. 

“Oh, my God, he thinks he’s James Bond,” Owen muttered. 

“Shaken, not stirred,” Jack whispered. The shoes were a little tight on his big feet, but they’d have to do. “Find…” he looked for ID on the person whose clothing he was wearing. “Lord Edmun,” he told Owen as he pocketed the several thousand pounds he found in the wallet. “Make sure he’s silent for a while. Everyone on standby!” he ordered into his earwig before taking it off and slipping it into his jacket pocket. He didn’t want to make up stories about bad hearing; a billionaire would have gotten it fixed. 

He took his gun back, slid it behind the belt at his back, made sure the coat covered it, straightened his hair, and headed out. 

Servants bobbed their heads at him as he walked openly into the main section of the mansion. He took a glass of champaign from a passing tray. He recognized a few faces, famous from the worlds of politics, show business, and private, old money. He was given curious looks; society manners kept people from openly questioning his presence. Looking the part made them hesitate; if he was someone important, and they didn’t recognize him, that would doom their own future. If he wasn’t important, they didn’t want to associate with him. Of himself, Jack recognized at least one royal face in the crowd that they’d probably need to extricate for the sake of Torchwood’s own politics with world governments. That one was too close to the crown to allow them to slip by. 

Someone commented on an oil baron who had recently been hurt in a riding accident. Jack knew the name. Picking an accent from the American South, he made his way through the room, making nice with the gentry as they wondered who he was. 

“Good afternoon,” he heard. He turned to see an older man, elegant in his own tuxedo, fit and trim. Jack made eyes at the handsome older man. He had guessed right when the look was surreptitiously returned. He took the hand that was held out. “How is your stay?” he was asked. 

“Fine, fine,” Jack said agreeably. “Nice little cottage ya’ll have here.” Confusion on the man’s face cleared a little. 

“I’m so glad you are enjoying it,” the man said. “How is… Texas, these days?” 

“Planet Texas is alive and well, thank you,” Jack said. The man smiled politely at the joke, although not understanding it. “My daddy sent his apologies for not being able to attend; I hope you received it?” 

The man, Lord Reginald, made a small moue. “No, I didn’t,” he confessed. “I trust his health is….?” 

Jack waved a hand. “Oh, daddy’ll be alright,” he said. “Horse tripped on a gofer hole, he fell, and the horse landed on him. He broke his leg. Daddy, that is, not the horse.” 

A face of compassion was made. “Oh, dear, not at all good for a man of his age.” 

“Believe me, he’ll be chasing those nurses around in no time,” Jack chuckled. “Oh, I’m sorry; if you didn’t receive his apologies, you must not know who I am. Where’s my manners? Jackson Baumann, son number Three. My older brothers wouldn’t have…. appreciated this as much as I can, so daddy sent me. Like father, like son, as they say.” 

Lord Reginald smiled and winked. 

“Just call me Jack.” 

The big oil family was known but hardly ever seen in public, so the story was accepted. 

“Did you take the time to sit with an advisor and made your wishes known?” Lord Reginald asked, leaning in. 

“No, I haven’t,” Jack said. He leaned in, too. “Tall and lean,” he said to the tall, lean man. The older man flushed at the attention from the handsome younger man. 

“Let me see what’s still available. Is this your first time at our parties?” Reginald asked. “I’m sure I would have remembered you from elsewhere.” 

“First time,” Jack agreed. “But not the First time, you understand.” 

Reginald patted his arm. “Not to worry,” he said. “I’m sure the rules won’t be too different from what you are used to, not if you use the same standards that your father does. As long as your… personal servant… is in one piece, you may use him, or her, as you will.” 

Jack leaned in again. “And if I wanted to take him, or her, home with me? Texas gets a little lonely, once in a while.” 

“We’ll see. Perhaps a…. small party? With one or two others?” 

“We’ll see.” Jack slid a hidden finger across the man’s tight stomach and into the space between two buttons. Brown eyes darkened with an inner flame. 

Lord Reginald removed himself to personally see to Jack’s needs. He had made his voice loud enough at the mention of his name that others nearby had heard and quickly passed it on; he was greeted by name from people he had never met before as he moved through the room. 

The Texas oil baron, Elliot Baumann, did have a third son, actually named Jackson, who was a bit of a recluse; there were no current photos of him. Older photos showed a boy with dark hair and a clef chin. The boy could possibly have grown up to look a little like Jack. Only a close, personal family friend would know that Jack wasn’t Jackson Baumann. Jack hoped none of them were present. 

A peak of a collar here and there, a chain under a blouse, confirmed to Jack exactly what kind of party it was. It also confirmed that he needed to get Ianto out. Ianto was a romantic; this kind of party wasn’t something he would like. Not that Jack couldn’t talk Ianto into tying him up, now and again. 

Someone whispered into Jack’s ear, and he made his way to a small, private office. A business-like man sat behind the desk, barely looking up as Jack entered. 

“Mr. Baumann, thank you for coming,” the man said. “I’m sorry we didn’t catch you earlier. We have a few odds and ends left over, but I assure you they are all quality material. These were just late getting here. If you would be so kind as to look through the catalogue and make your choices?” 

Jack sat in front of the desk and took the offered book. It was filled with photos of men and women, each dressed and undressed. Most of the pictures were marked as ‘sold.’ As he looked thoughtfully through the photo album, he quickly thought of how he was going to pay the listed prices. They were a lot more then the few thousand he had in his pocket. 

“Lord Reginald has already tallied your donation,” the man was saying. “Your family has quite a substantial amount recorded, so please don’t hesitate in your choice. Have you been told how this works?” 

“No, I’m sorry to say I have not,” Jack said honestly. “I was always more interested in the stories, not the finances.” 

“Of course, sir. The Baumann family has a long history with us; many generations have spent their time at our annual events. I believe the last time a Baumann hosted an event was in 1923. This was in the old family castle in Austria.” 

“Overdue,” Jack said with a smile, looking up for a moment. 

“It is more difficult in the United States,” the man agreed. “Half of the funds go to the host, the other half go toward charities. Mr. Baumann has several years paid in advance.” 

“That’s nice but I will add to it,” Jack assured him. He took out the pound notes and slid them across the desk. The man gave a small nod of approval, made a tic in his journal, and put the money away. “I’m not seeing anything stand out,” Jack said, shutting the book. “I really had my heart set on something tall. Lean. I like dark hair, but any color will do. I suppose, though….” 

“Well.” The man thoughtfully tapped his chin with a pen. “We do have a young man…. but he isn’t completely… awake… from his trip here.” 

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Jack said, putting a hard edge into his voice for the first time. The man saw something in his eyes and took a step back into servant status. 

“Very well, sir.” He turned a small screen around to face Jack. “How about this one?” 

Ianto’s face came into focus. Jack leaned in. The eyes were sleepy, lethargic from whatever drug he was given. 

“Oh, now that’s very pretty,” he breathed in appreciation. “He’s available?” 

“Yes, sir. We will have him prepared and sent to your quarters.” 

Jack gave a nod of approval and left. 

Dinner was about to be served, so Jack took his place in the dining hall. He chatted with his table partners, engaging them with world politics and his own opinions, and surprising them with his knowledge of political history. Many of the people didn’t know their own history and pretended to understand what he was talking about while they made mental notes to do a little research. There were decades when Jack had not much better to do than read and pay attention. 

The servants took the dishes away and dessert was served. Jack plucked a few pieces of fruit, not wanting to be weighted down with the sugar from the treats. He flirted with the woman next to him, an old dowager who ate it up, and made show of peeling a grape before caressing her painted, wrinkled lips with it and sliding the small globe sensuously into her mouth. She gave a deep-throated chuckle and swatted at him with her cloth kerchief. 

One by one, a servant came and whispered into someone’s ear. The person left the room, a smile on their face as their table-mates sent well-wishes. 

“Sir,” came the whisper into Jack’s ear. “Your quarters are prepared.” 

He stood, patted his stomach, and gave his table a gleaming smile. The dowager’s hand was pecked and he wished her pleasant dreams. 

“Show me,” he told the servant. The servant was curious as to why, but didn’t dare ask. It wasn’t her place to ask why the gentleman didn’t know where his quarters were. 

“Jack.” Lord Reginald came toward him in the corridor. “That will be all,” he told the girl. She gave an old-fashioned curtsy and went back to her duties. “Since you haven’t been here before, I wanted to show you around before you retired.” 

Jack agreed and kept his impatience to himself. 

“Besides your quarters, there are many other places to entertain,” Reginald said as he took Jack’s arm and began to walk. “The library is always popular. –and don’t worry if it’s already occupied. If someone wants privacy, they can lock a door. There is a wardrobe of costumes you are welcome to choose from, the solarium windows are one-way. No one outside will see in. There is a playroom downstairs, with all the trimmings, and the third floor has themed rooms. No clothing in the pool or spa; soap bubbles make such a mess.” 

“My daddy says the same thing,” Jack commented. “We also have a barn.” 

Reginald nodded. “Yes, there is a barn, if you’d like to walk out there.” He made it a question. Jack smiled. 

“Later,” he said. He slid his arm out and his hand across Reginald’s back before giving the man’s ass a caress. “Do I get to play cowboy or Indian?” 

“I see you as more the bull-rider type,” Reginald told him. “Or breaking in those wild ponies.” 

Jack laughed and pressed his hand between the man’s tight cheeks. “Oh, there are times when I’m in need of a little breaking-in myself.” 

Reginald squirmed at the hand, tittering, flushing as the front of his pants bulged. 

“Can you ride a bucking bull, Reggie?” Jack asked in a heated whisper. 

“I… will give it my best,” Reginald said, ready to faint from lack of oxygen to his brain. 

“Show me where my quarters are,” Jack told him. “I want that pretty boy’s ass before we relax in the barn. Make sure there’s plenty of rope, Reggie. Can’t break bulls and ponies without rope. And a whip or two.” 

A lord of the realm, Reginald almost tripped over his own feet as he showed Jack to his quarters and leaving to make sure the barn was properly prepared. 

Jack took a deep breath and went into his quarters. There was a naked body laying across the large bed. A familiar, lean length with dark hair. Jack put a finger against Ianto’s neck, waited, and breathed a sigh of relief at the strong pulse. In panic, Jack gently parted the bare ass cheeks. Another sigh of relief. Jack smelled soap and water, but there were no signs of trauma. He gave the cheeks a pat. 

“Ianto,” he whispered as he turned the young man over. Knowing that Tosh had fixed the security, he didn’t bother to look for any hidden cameras in the room. He slid the earwig back on. 

“I’m in,” Jack whispered. “Second floor, Southwest corner suite. Ianto is here but he’s unconscious. There are servant’s stairs across from the kitchen. Looks like a closet door, but there are stairs inside. Don’t try for the main staircase, there are too many people around. The servant stairs comes out on the second floor about 100 yards from here. There is one more suite between the stairs and my suite.” He walked to the window. 

“I see a garden maze outside my window. A couple of naked idiots running around in it, but otherwise it’s clear. I don’t know about windows below my location. There’s plenty of rope, blindfolds, and gags around here, so don’t hesitate to use them if you need to. Under cushions, attached to chair legs…. be creative in your searching. 

“I’m going to try and get Ianto awake. I think this window outside to the maze is our best bet; the kitchen is going to make a nice playground, so I don’t think we’ll make it out from there. Tosh, get the SUV ready to catch us. 

“Owen, there’s a log book in the manager’s office, along with millions in cash. I can think of a few charities in need of it. “Gwen, get to the maze and figure out logistics. Rose, see if you can get up here. Bring sheets and towels, or something.” 

Everyone acknowledged him, and the comm was silent. 

Jack sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Ianto’s face and hair. 

“Ianto? Wake up.” He tapped gently on his cheek. “What the hell did they give you?” He kissed the slack lips. “Come on, I really need you to wake up, Ianto; my suit is getting wrinkled, sitting like this.” 

A moment later, there was a low moan. Jack brightened. “Yes! Wake up, Sleeping Beauty, that’s it, come on.” 

“Jaaaa….?” 

“Yes, it’s me,” Jack leaned in to whisper. “You need to wake up. You were drugged. Fight it, Ianto, you can do it.” 

The door opened and Jack whipped around, reaching for his gun. 

“It’s me,” Rose whispered, holding a finger to her mouth. She had someone with her, someone bound and gagged, struggling. She shut and locked the door behind her before hustling over to the bed. “How is he?” 

“Coming around,” Jack said as he stroked the dark hair. He was presented with blinking eyes trying to focus. “Come in, Ianto, we need you up and about. Fight it.” 

The young man in the bonds tried to yell. Rose smacked him on the head. 

“None a-that, you,” she growled at him. 

“You are coming with us, whether you like it or not,” Jack admonished him, shaking a finger. “You are not going to humiliate your family like this, you spoiled piece of shit.” The young royal glared at him. 

“Jack.” Tosh was in his ear. “I can’t get any closer. You’re going to need to get Ianto out to the main road. There’s too many guards around.” 

“See if there’s any clothes in here,” Jack told Rose. She shoved the royal into a chair, and quickly went to search the closet and wardrobe. 

“Jack, unlock the door,” Owen whispered into his ear. Jack went and unlocked the suite door and Owen slipped in. He immediately went to the bed and gave Ianto a quick look-over. 

“No trauma,” he said in relief. 

“I noticed. You got anything to revive him? This is taking too long.” 

Owen took a syringe from his jacket and stabbed Ianto in the ass with it. 

“What’s that?” Jack asked. Owen was the only doctor he knew who walked around with syringes in his jacket. 

“An upper,” Owen said. “Always revives me.” 

“Here,” Rose said, holding out a handful of furry cloth. Jack took it and held it up. 

“It’s a mouse,” he said, eyeing the pointed face and whiskers. 

“The closet is filled with costumes,” she hissed at him. “ _You_ find something.” 

Jack and Owen began to dress Ianto in the mouse outfit. Jack began to get an idea. 

“Lots of costumes?” 

Rose crossed her arms, shifted a hip, and gave him a suspicious look. “Yeah.” 

Five minutes later, Jack was walking down the hall. He had a fresh kill tossed over his shoulder, and Rose, wearing a leather mask, had two more training behind tied to a rope. His gun was resting against his shoulder and he was whistling merrily. Several people passed him and laughed. 

“Jack, I wished you good hunting but I didn’t think you’d take it seriously,” one man said with a chuckle as he eyed the two large ‘cats’ and the unknown Mistress. She snapped a riding crop at one of her leashed cats who was hissing and growling. 

“Oh, you know… a little pussy now and again…” 

More laughter followed him as he strolled down the main staircase with his cats. They left the house through the library and out into the maze. 

“Can I have the space?” Jack asked a couple of naked people. “My kitties want to chase the mouse.” 

They laughed and agreed to give him the space. 

“I won’t forgive you for this, Jack,” Owen hissed at him from inside the lion face. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Rose said inside her leather mask. “This has potential.” 

Jack set Ianto on his feet, holding the young man as he wobbled a little. 

“Ok?” he asked. Ianto gave a shaky nod. 

“Getting there,” he said. 

“Can you run? I really need you to run. At least to the main road.” 

There was a crash from the other side of the house. Guards began to run. 

“Fire in the kitchen!” they yelled. 

“Now!” Jack ordered. Ianto began to jog into the maze, the cats chasing him, as Jack called out directions, picturing the maze from the window above. A shadow snuck around the house and joined them. 

“Kitchen will take some time,” Gwen whispered. “Grease everywhere. Naughty of someone.” 

By the time someone realized the diversion, they were almost to the road where Tosh was waiting for them. The royal was shoved into the back of the SUV while the others grabbed a seat. Tosh took off before the last door was closed. She wasn’t as fast as Jack, but she was a very good get-away driver. 

They left the royal with MI-5, who bit back their laughter at the site of the costume, and took Ianto home to Torchwood. He was put to bed in Jack’s quarters, covered, and sent back to sleep off the rest of the drugs under the careful supervision of Owen. Jack kissed Ianto’s forehead, covered him up, and left him to sleep. 

The girls were standing around and talking quietly when he came back into the main Hub. 

“Alright?” Gwen asked. Jack nodded. 

“He’s sleeping.” 

“Was he… harmed?” she asked, worried. 

“No,” he assured her. Tosh and Rose relaxed, having been unconsciously waiting to hear it. “Thank you for helping Ianto,” he told them. Gwen shook his arm. 

“Jack, we’re a team, remember?” she told him. “We’re family.” 

Tosh touched his arm, too. “Rift opens in twenty-three minutes,” she said. “If Rose needs to get to it. Next one won’t be for two days.” 

“Go,” Jack said with a nod. He put his arms around Rose, giving her a tight squeeze. She smiled and snuggled into his shoulder for a moment. He kissed her before releasing her. She smiled at him before turning to Gwen and taking her hands. 

“Be mindful of his face and neck,” she said gently to Gwen. “He doesn’t really like to be touched there, not without warning. Issues. He’ll tell you when he’s ready. And the backs of his knees are a hot zone. Get him on his belly and lick the back of his knees, and he’ll turn into a whimpering baby. And don’t be jealous of his time with Ianto; he loves each person individually, so don’t try and compare anything. If you want his attention before he gives it, you’ll need to ask straight for it. Don’t play games with his head or his heart; he’s your friend above all else. He will be at your side forever, if you are an honest and loyal friend in return.” 

Gwen gave a teary nod and smile before hugging Rose. Tosh didn’t question anything as she waited. 

Once Rose and Tosh left for the site of the next Rift opening, Jack collapsed into a chair, breathing deeply into his hands. Gwen rested against the desk, facing him, and gave his hair a stroke. He took her hand and pressed the back of his mouth to her knuckles before placing it against his cheek. 

“You’re allowed,” he told her, and shut his eyes to rest. 


	4. Chapter 4

  
Author's notes: Jack shows his ass and is in major doo-doo with his partners after allowing a situation to get the better of him.  


* * *

Note: The poem Jack reads is called “Amends to Nature” by Arthur Symons, a Welsh poet. 

*** 

Like a gargoyle overlooking his territory, Jack squatted on the roof of the building, watching the city. The wind whistled through his hair and in his ears, sometimes threatening to knock him off the edge. It had happened before; of course, he had woken up, gasping for breath through the pain of becoming alive again. It hurt to die, and it hurt to be reborn. He was becoming used to the pain. At least he was alive to feel it. 

The city of Cardiff sprawled across a lush green landscape to the north-east, and sat along the ocean to the south-west. England lay to the north-east border, but he couldn’t see it from southern Wales. Once in a while, a smell from below wafted upward far enough for him to smell. It reminded him that he was getting hungry. 

He went back into the building, ignoring the looks from the people who worked in the upper offices, and took the elevator back down to the basement level where he entered a code into the wall. A series of circular doors began to open, allowing him to walk through them. 

“Upstairs again?” Ianto asked quietly from across the room. 

“Clears my head,” Jack said. He felt Ianto’s eyes on him but didn’t pause to answer the unasked questions. 

“Jack,” Tosh called out as he came in. “I was just about to call you. There’s a report of a haunted house.” 

Knowing Tosh wouldn’t bother him with the idiot-sighting of the day, he went to look over her shoulder. 

”News crew got to it?” he commented as he watched the report. A chair flew out the front door of the house, causing the on-lookers to screech and run away from it. 

“How are we going to investigate this with all those people and cameras around?” Tosh wondered in despair. 

“What do the readings say?” Jack asked. She changed screens to show him the monitors. 

“Definite Rift patterns in the area,” she said, pointing them out. He looked them over, watching the continually adjusting patterns on the monitor. 

“The last time we had ghosts, it turned into a war,” she reminded him. 

“I know,” he said, putting a hand to her shoulder for a moment. “I don’t think this is the same, though. Let’s get the police to clear the area. Tell them to call it a gas leak or something.” 

While Tosh got on the phone to the police, Jack went into his office and called up the files on ghost-like activity. 

Most of Earth’s ghost history was based in superstition. About ten percent was caused by true psychic talent, although it was usually done unconsciously by the human involved. Less than one percent was an actual alien situation, such as what turned into Cybermen at Canary Warf. The monitors said this one was possibly alien. There were very few alien races that could invade through a non-physical form, which is what would need to happen for a house to become ‘haunted.’ 

After getting Tosh and Owen into the SUV, Jack sped off almost before the doors were even closed. 

“Where’s Gwen?” Owen asked, frowning as he buckled in. 

“Call her,” Jack said with a short clip. A muscle in his jaw gave a tick. Owen glanced in the rearview mirror at Tosh. 

“Jack…” 

“Do it!” Jack snapped at him. Owen held up a hand and pulled his cell phone out. 

There was in image in his head that he had been trying to forget all day; he knew he was being an asshole with his team. Actually, he was controlling most of it. 

Gwen had had breakfast with Rhys. She had held his hand. The grinding in Jack’s head became louder. It was all Jack could do to not blast the other man out of existence. Ianto knew something was wrong, but he didn’t press Jack for answers beyond, “Did I do something?” “No,” Jack had growled. That was enough for Ianto. The younger man’s presence was soothing, a comfort; when Jack was calm, he’d probably talk about it but until then, Ianto would respect his space. Jack appreciated it. 

They came to the neighborhood with the problem house and screeched to a halt behind all the emergency vehicles. The police were getting the locals and news crews back out of the way while they bit their tongues with impatience at Torchwood’s immunity, and impudence, when it came to talking over a scene with no explanation. Many officials had tried to curb Torchwood’s power, and many officials had their careers shot down for it. If Torchwood had even once stepped over the line, bribed or pushed someone beyond the bounds of morals or ethics, it would have been a different matter. Captain Harkness, however, ran Torchwood to within inches of sainthood. As far as they knew. Sneaking off with alien devices and sleeping with co-workers were things the public did NOT need to know. 

A lamp came flying out the front window of the house and everyone ducked from the glass. 

“Get those cells placed and stay on the outside of them!” Jack ordered as soon as they were inside the front door. A teenage girl sat in the middle of the livingroom, her arms clasped around her knees, hair in disarray, rocking and keening quietly to herself. The yellow glow of her eyes gave away the alien presence. Tosh and Owen slid around the four walls of the room, placing small, portable prison cells on the floor in front of each corner. The combined cells quadrupled their energy, encircling the entire room and everyone within it. Jack would turn them off when they had dealt with the alien. 

The yellowed eyes gave Jack a clue as to which race the creature was –Udug. He had ran into them once before, and he had hoped never to again. So much for wishful thinking. 

An ancient expulsion chant came back to him, and he began to intone it. He couldn’t actually speak the language, but the Udug would be forced to obey the laws the chant spelled out. Mainly – _This is my territory, Get out!_

The creature snarled and spat at him and he forced himself not to retaliate; he’d only be hurting the girl, and it wasn’t her fault. 

It growled at him and gave a knowing chuckle. “I can smell it, you know,” it said through the girl’s mouth. The dual vocals, the girl’s and the low growl of the Udug, was disconcerting to hear. “The stink of a time-traveler. You are not one of them.” 

“I’m human, on the planet of human origins,” he growled back. “I belong here, you don’t. Obey the rules –leave that child and this planet! This territory is mine!” He re-chanted the laws and it hissed in frustration. 

“Where is your ship, time traveler?” it demanded. “Give it to me and I will leave!” 

“You get nothing,” Jack promised it. “Your life only!” He doubled the energy of his chant, and it howled in pain. An orange mist came out of the girl and reformed into another creature. It was short, squat, gray, had floppy, pointed ears, sharp, pointed teeth, and small, black beady eyes. It crouched low, hissing at him with a slithering tongue, keeping its clawed, elongated fingers at the ready. Jack drew his gun and pointed it at the creature and slowly moved until he stood between the creature and the girl who had collapsed, unconscious, on the floor. 

“Push the cells closer!” he yelled. Tosh and Owen carefully nudged the small pieces of metal closer to the center of the room until only Jack and the Udug were inside. The girl cried out in more pain as the cell walls passed over her. As long as someone on the outside was manipulating them, someone on the inside could be removed. It wasn’t without pain, though. Owen hurried to the girl. 

“Pulse is weak!” he called out. 

“Get her out!” Jack ordered. Owen lifted the girl and backed out of the house with her while Tosh held her gun on the pair within the cell walls. Tosh had paled at the sight of the creature but held steady. 

While the door was open, Jack could hear Gwen outside, ordering someone to stay back as emergency medical people came to take the girl from Owen. She was present and helping. A small part of Jack’s brain took it for granted that she would know not to interfere with an unknown situation by running blindly into the house. Keeping guard outside was exactly right. 

“Tosh, move them closer,” Jack said, keeping his gun on the creature. She didn’t take her eyes off the two in the center as she carefully kicked the cells closer. It snarled at her and she jumped back. 

“It can’t get you from here,” Jack told her. “Just get them between us.” 

He was prepared for the pain of the cell walls passing over him; not having actually experienced it personally, he wasn’t prepared for exactly how painful it was. The girl had screamed in pain while she was unconscious. Jack wished he had been unconscious. The Udug rushed him. It bounced off the inner-walls, howling in its own pain. 

He shook the waves from his body which reacted quickly to redact the pain, and flipped his wrist band open to press at the controls. The four cells collapsed. The Udug was gone. 

“Where’d it go?” Tosh asked, her voice shaky. 

“Inside the cells,” Jack said, picking them up and pocketing them. 

“Which one?” she asked. 

“All of them.” 

Her eyes widened at the thought of Udug pieces within the four cells. 

“Clear!” Jack called out to the locals. He swept by Gwen, not saying anything, and she paused in mid-syllable. Tosh was close behind; she gave her head a shake and shoulders a shrug at Gwen’s glance. 

The ambulance had already taken the girl to the hospital, along with a hastily scribbled report from Dr. Harper telling the medical personnel that the girl had collapsed from stress and a possible mental imbalance. She’d get a few months of meds and psychiatric treatment before being declared fit and released to her worried parents. At some point, she would receive an extra little white pill and forget the events all-together. 

When Tosh and Owen were in the SUV, Jack hit the gas and sped off with a screech of tires while Gwen stood by her car and watched them. 

“Jack, are you alright?” Tosh asked after a mile. He didn’t respond. 

The entire team was quiet as Jack flew into the Hub and slammed his office door. He couldn’t remember the last time he had hurt so much; not even dying and resurrecting hurt so much. Watching Gwen get almost married to Rhys came pretty close; he managed to smile his way through the ceremony that almost was, and kept his shout of joy to himself when it was canceled. He turned the back of his chair to the door, leaned back, and closed his eyes as he took deep breaths. 

After a while, the door quietly opened. A tray was placed on his desk, with a cup of tea and a plate of crackers and cheese. Since it was Ianto’s scent, Jack didn’t yell about the intrusion. 

“Are you ready to talk?” Ianto quietly asked. 

“No.” 

“Alright.” A shadow moved to the front of his eyelids. “She doesn’t understand, Jack; neither do I or anyone else, but you’re obviously mad at her for something.” 

“I said I don’t want to talk about it!” Jack opened his eyes and snarled at the man. Ianto didn’t blink. 

“That’s too bad,” came the unexpected reply. “I don’t know what relationships are like on your planet but on our planet partners talk to each other. We work it out _together._ You want to be a bastard for a while, that’s fine. You go ahead and feel sorry for yourself. I suppose we all need the time, once in a while. When you’re ready to grow up, let us know.” 

Shocked beyond words, Jack could hear only the roaring in his ears while Ianto walked out of the office and quietly closed the door. 

It was several hours later when Jack stopped his temper tantrum long enough to notice that he was alone. Everyone had left the Hub. He stood outside his door, glaring at the gray walls and equipment. 

“Ianto!” he yelled. There was no reply except for the echo of his voice off the concrete walls. He stomped down the halls to his quarters. Empty. Huffing in irritation, he tore his clothes off, threw them on the bed, and went to the showers. 

Hands against the tile, head down, the strong spray of water his the back of his neck. Ok, so he was behaving like an ass. Damned if he really knew why. He’d had partners cheat on him before; he expected it. For some reason, this betrayal hit him harder than any had before. It wasn’t like Gwen sleeping with Owen after she had started at Torchwood; he understood that, it was a case of shock and needing someone to take it out on. Gwen had settled in long ago, though, so what was the problem? Was he the problem? Did he not please her? She certainly yelled loud enough when she came, which was often. Jack felt as though he were missing something and shit if he knew what it was. 

When he noticed his fingers pruning, he shut the water off. The effects of alcohol were pointless on him but he drank half a bottle of Scotch anyway as he sat on his bed. He looked around. A couple of throw-rugs were strewn across the concrete floor, red Celtic knot work of dragons and swans. Ianto, Jack knew; the man was very proud of his heritage. A dark-stained wooden dresser stood across from the bed, brush sitting neatly on a silver tray on top of the dresser. A mirror sat behind it, held up by strong hooks that were drilled into the cement. The mirror also has knot work on the edges. These Celts were a colorful people, Jack had long ago noticed. They did everything with a great passion. 

The bookstand on the east wall was slowly becoming crowded with books. Jack rarely bought a book, although he enjoyed reading them. Most of them were from Ianto, who had a surprising love of the classics. There was a new book on the bedside stand. Something small. Jack picked it up. Welsh Love Poetry. Yes, it had to be Ianto. Jack made a half-hearted flip through the pages before stopping to read. 

I have loved colours, and not flowers;  
Their motion, not the swallows wings;   
And wasted more than half my hours   
Without the comradeship of things.   


How is it, now, that I can see,   
With love and wonder and delight,   
The children of the hedge and tree,   
The little lords of day and night?   


How is it that I see the roads,   
No longer with usurping eyes,   
A twilight meeting-place for toads,   
A mid-day mart for butterflies?   


I feel, in every midge that hums,   
Life, fugitive and infinite,   
And suddenly the world becomes   
A part of me and I of it.   


A hunger tore at him and he fell to the sheets after hurling the book across the room. 

At some point, someone had come in and covered him. He didn’t know who, he had already fallen into a heavy, dream-disturbed sleep. He didn’t remember the dreams, he never did. They were becoming more and more erratic the older he became; not knowing what was real, what was history and what was nothing more than his head talking to itself. He hated these phases. 

When he became conscious of his surroundings, he noticed someone was sitting on the end of the bed, watching him. 

“Can we go for a walk today?” he quietly asked. 

“Yes,” Gwen said. 

The team worked quietly as he came out of his quarters. Ianto held out his great-coat. Jack shook his head. 

“Civvies, today,” Jack said, gently, patting at his slacks and Polo shirt. Ianto gave a nod and folded the coat over his arm. Jack took a step past, paused, and reached for Ianto’s hand. He leaned in and pecked him softly on the lips. That he wasn’t rejected, struck him to the core. 

Gwen drove her car instead of the SUV. They went to Dyffryn Gardens, neither of them speaking on the way. Once they were parked, they walked slowly toward the lake. A smaller hand crept into his and Jack held tightly to it. 

Children and dogs played, running and yelling in their joy and excitement, while parents called to them, unheeded. Ducks were chased, geese honked, and the smell of popcorn and cotton-candy was in the air. 

While rain was normal weather, the day was sunny and clear except for a few fluffy, white clouds dotting the blue sky. Kids were flying kites, and one small boy tripped and fell. His face puckered. Jack took the few yards to the child and he knelt down to lift the boy to his feet, giving him a gentle brush while Gwen fetched the kite. 

“There, now, it’s alright,” he said softly. An anxious mother came toward them. “He’s ok,” Jack told her. “Just wounded pride.” She smiled gratefully, took the kite from Gwen with one hand and the boy in her other had. 

They continued their walk to the lake. 

“You like kids,” Gwen commented. “You’re good with them.” 

“My little brother was stolen when I was ten and he was six,” Jack heard himself saying. “I was in charge of him.” Shocked, Gwen tightened her hand on his. 

“Oh, God, Jack….” 

He shook his head. “I don’t know why I said that,” he told her. “It was a long time ago. In a galaxy far, far away….” He smiled at the sky with a hint of melancholy before sending the feelings away. 

Gwen tugged on his hand, making him stop. “Jack, please; what’s wrong?” she begged. He shook his head again, and took his hand, walking a few paces as his heart raced. 

“Are you going back to Rhys?” he asked, looking at a small grove of trees. 

“What?!” She stepped quickly to the front of him, making him look at her. “Jack, no! Whatever gave you…… you saw us, didn’t you? Yesterday. Having breakfast at the café.” 

He shoved his hands under his armpits. Gwen reached up and held the sides of his head between her hands. 

“Jack, listen to me.” Her dark eyes were fierce with that inner flame as she held his blue gaze. “Rhys and I need to work this out. We were always good friends, and we want to remain good friends. Nothing more. I hope there will be a day when you can call him a friend, too. He’s been an important part of my life and I cannot, will not, toss that aside. For God’s sake, Jack, he was my first lover!” 

“Look at me, damn you!” She gave his shoulders a shake when he closed his eyes. He opened them again. “I’ve had three lovers in my life, Jack; Rhys, Owen, and you! In that order. Do I seem like the kind of girl to toss men aside?” 

“No,” he whispered. He knew he had made a mistake. A big one. “I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely. She smacked him on the chest and walked away. A hand went to her face, wiping swiftly at it. 

“Gwen,” Jack called to her as he hurried after her. “I’m sorry. Please. Look, this is no excuse, but I’m new to this….” She turned to look at him, angry. “Alright, I’m no spring chicken, but it’s been a very long time since I….. loved anyone. You met the last woman I loved, and look how old she was.” 

Gwen considered him as she wiped at her face again. 

“Estelle was your latest love?” she asked. The old lady had been, well, old, when Gwen had met her. Jack and Estelle’s love affair had been during World War II. 

“Before… now….” 

“You can’t say it, can you?” she asked, watching him. 

Jack brought his hands to his mouth for a moment, trying to sort out his thoughts and feelings. Dealing with feelings always brought him trouble. Life was easier without emotions getting in the way. 

“Gwen, this is so hard,” he said, his voice muffled in his palms. “People keep…. dying on me….” 

More tears ran down her face as she reached out to put her arms around him. 

“This is life, Jack,” she whispered into his ear. “Yes, we die. I will die, Ianto will die. And at some point, you will die.” 

He tightened his arms around her. “I calculated it,” he said. “Unless something drastic happens, like being torn limb from limb or something, I’ll be around for a few million years.” 

Gwen drew back, horror on her face. “Jack, no…!” 

“Yes,” he nodded. “I age, but too slowly for it to be noticeable. Don’t you see? I will have to love and watch people die over and over again for millions of years. This isn’t a blessing, Gwen, it’s a curse. I would rather you return to Rhys now, than to feel the pain of you dying later.” 

She glowered at him. “Coward.” 

He leaned back. “What?” 

“You are a coward, Jack Harkness. Or whatever your real name is. This is LIFE! Get used to it! No matter where you go, life and death happens! You can scream and yell about it, go hide in a cave, bury your head in the sand, and it’s still going to happen. I could die tomorrow, Ianto could fall in love with some pretty red-head up the street, and you could meet the man of your dreams delivering your lunch. It happens! And you know what you do when it happens? You bless everyone who has ever walked with you for a while, because it is those experiences that make you the person you are!” 

She knocked his arm. “For someone as old and experienced as you, you can be the town idiot!” 

Jack watched in disbelief as she stormed away from him. 

“What the hell just happened?” he asked a duck. It muttered at him and walked away, also. 

When it occurred to him that she wasn’t going to wait, he hurried to catch up. 

“Son!” He heard someone calling out and saw an old man waving at him from behind a flower cart. “Son, come ‘ere!” His manners took over and he stopped long enough to hear what the old man had to say. Flowers were thrust at him. “I don’t know wha’ yon lady is angry aboot but trust an old man; gi’ these to her.” 

Jack kept an eye on Gwen’s retreating form as he impatiently reached into a pocket. 

“No, no,” the old man shook his hand and waved his hands. “Jus’ take ‘em. Go, son, hurry before she leaves wi’ou’ ye.” 

When he reached the parking lot, he didn’t see her car. Squeal of tires made him jump back from the edge of the road. 

“Get in!” she ordered. Jack got in. Quickly. Before she changed her mind. 

“Oh, yes he did!” she snapped into the earwig. “How the hell should I know where he gets these ideas?” Jack had a sinking feeling he knew who she was talking to as the Welsh accent got thicker in her anger. His bed was going to be empty for a while. He really hated sleeping alone. When she switched to actual Welsh, he knew he was going to be celibate. 

Ok, so maybe he went a little over-board, but couldn’t she understand? The increasing decibels of tongue-twisting vowels and heavy consonants told him she didn’t. And neither did Ianto. Jack sank lower in the seat and watched out the side window at the passing city. He tried to hold up the flower bouquet. She glared at him. He put them to his nose, took a sniff, and continued looking out the window. 

When they got back to the Hub, Jack followed Gwen in. Tosh and Owen took one look at them, and then at Ianto who stood watching darker than normal, and quickly excused themselves. 

“Oh, how time flies,” Owen said, looking at the invisible watch on his wrist. “Tosh, up for a burger?” 

“Love one!” she squeaked, and high-tailed it up the stairs after him. 

The upstairs door slammed shut. 

“No!” Jack yelled, holding up a finger. “You are not going to ring me dry for this!” 

Gwen and Ianto stood side-by-side with their arms crossed, waiting. 

“How would you feel if you watched the people you love get old and die while you stayed young and healthy? Huh?! It gets tiring after 80 years; try it for a couple hundred!” 

He rounded on Gwen, the finger back in the air. “Am I a coward? No! A little insecure, yes, but not a coward! I l….. I…..” He tried to breathe, feeling his chest tighten. 

“Say it, Jack,” Ianto said softly. 

“We’re here and we’re not goin’ anywhere,” Gwen said, equally soft. “Just say it.” 

Jack fell forward, hands on his knees as specs of light dazzled his eyelids. Hyperventilating; he knew the signs. He forced himself to regulate his O2 sats. 

“I… I can’t…” 

Hands touched his hair, smoothing the sticky, moussed chestnut strands. 

“Yes, you can,” he was told. “It’s three simple words, Jack, just say them.” 

“You’re not alone, anymore; we’re not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart,” Gwen cooed gently. “I’ll say them first, shall I? I love you, Jack. See? Three simple words.” 

A strong hand touched his back. “Dwi'n dy garu di,” came a lower rumble. Jack fell to the floor. 

They got him to his feet and led him to his quarters, sitting him on the edge of the bed while his shoes were taken off and his belt loosened before setting him back onto the mattress. Gwen curled into his right side while Ianto curled into his left. Jack talked. He talked for hours about his life and whatever came to his mind. He had no idea he had needed to share so badly with someone the most important times of his life, had no idea he had been under so much stress. He knew his partners were at times shocked at his actions and things that had been done to him, and other times amused at some of the situations he had found himself in. 

He was held throughout his discourse, hands never leaving his body. 

“Jack, what did Rose mean by you being the closest thing to a Time Lord?” Gwen asked when he began to quiet. He looked at her. “I heard her talking to you. She said you were the nearest thing to a Time Lord and you were needed out there. What did she mean?” 

He wiped at his face and sniffed. “You weren’t meant to hear that,” he said. 

“So I guessed,” she said. “Will you tell us anyway?” 

“Oh, boy….” 

It took a while for them to understand about Time Lords and Time Agents; the new syntaxes hurt everyone’s brain. Surprisingly, Ianto seemed to catch on faster than Gwen. Jack wondered exactly how much Ianto hid in his quiet brain. 

“So…. I don’t understand,” Gwen said, using his chest as her drawing board. “If more Time Lords are needed, why not go back in time to get them?” 

“Can’t,” Jack said, shaking his head. “When the Time War happened, it didn’t just destroy Gallifrey at that time, it destroyed all aspects of it. Even in the past. From the beginning of time itself, and in all dimensions and parallel universes. That’s what a Time War does.” 

Gwen’s eyes got wider as did Ianto’s as they finally began to understand. 

“Your Doctor friend…. he’s not only alone, he’s _completely_ alone!” Gwen cried in understanding. Jack nodded soberly. “But how did he survive?” 

“I’m not sure,” Jack admitted. “He doesn’t talk about it much. Hardly ever. He was probably in his TARDIS, which takes him out of direct contact with space and time.” 

“And are you really needed out there?” she asked, watching his face. Jack shrugged. 

“I don’t think so,” he said. “The universe got on without me for a very long time, I’m sure it will continue well enough on its own.” 

“How come you don’t time travel anymore?” Ianto asked. “With the ships and stuff we find, it isn’t like you’re stuck here.” 

“Well, besides the fact that my so-called time machine is broken and pretty much dead, I’m happy here,” Jack told him. “I don’t want to leave.” 

Gwen’s mouth crooked up. “You have a time machine?” she questioned. Jack smiled and reached over to the bedside stand for his watch. He handed it to her. She and Ianto were both confused. 

“I don’t understand,” she said, holding it. She knew there was some kind of controls inside of it, but it still looked like a watch. 

“Think about it as a universal remote control,” Jack said. “Only this one is broken; it doesn’t change channels anymore.” 

Ianto took it from Gwen and looked closely at it. “The one Rose has. You could have taken it and left with her.” 

Jack slid an arm under Ianto and up his back. “I could have. I didn’t.” 

Ianto tossed the wristband to the table and bent down, covering Jack’s mouth with his own. Feeing his shirt forced up, Jack chuckled and opened his mouth. 

Much to Gwen’s amazement, it was Jack who rolled over onto his stomach and spread his legs once he and Ianto were both naked and stroking each other. It thrilled Jack even more that she was watching them, that she was turned on by what she was seeing. He knew she didn’t care for sex that particular way for herself, and he respected her even more for being open with her preferences, and yet she was turned on watching the two men together. 

When Ianto rolled away, Jack turned and nuzzled his way up Gwen’s legs. In her fever, she allowed him to do away with her clothes and have his way with her dripping center until she came in his mouth. 

His heart exuberant with the energy that the three of them brought together, Jack laughed and drew them both to him as he settled into the middle of the pile. 

“I don’t believe he earned that,” Ianto commented between finding air to breathe. He used Jack’s white t-shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. 

“I know he didn’t,” Gwen agreed. Her face was regaining its color as her breathing also returned to normal. She accepted Jack’s shirt to wipe her face, too. “That little pity-party of his was really over the top.” 

Jack ignored them; they were right, but he really did have anxiety about out-living his partners. 

“I’m also pretty sure he didn’t tell us everything,” Ianto said. 

“I agree,” Gwen said. “Hopping about through time, all those planets, and all he does is a little thievery, getting into fights, and snogging aliens? I don’t think so. I want to meet this Doctor friend of his and have a chat.” 

Jack’s eyes flew open. 

“And he still hasn’t told us about this whole immortality thing,” Ianto continued. 

“Oooh, yeah, there’s that,” Gwen agreed. 

The anxiety was leaving, and panic was setting in. 

In the morning, Jack showered, dressed, and walked slowly into the main part of the Hub. Coffee was smelling up the place, telling him where Ianto was, and Gwen had her face deep into a police report on the computer. The upstairs door opened and Owen stuck his head in. He was squinting in suspicion, although Jack felt that Owen’s glasses needed updating. 

“Well?” Jack called up. “You just going to stand there and let the tourists in? Make sure they bring sauce; I don’t think Myfanwy’s been fed this morning.” 

Owen removed his face. “He sounds normal,” he said behind him. The door opened and Owen came in, followed by Tosh. They came down the stairs, watching the other three in the Hub. 

“Is there going to be some sort of formal announcement?” Owen asked as he and Tosh came to a stop in the center of the room. 

“Of what?” Jack asked, looking through one of the weekly rags. He found the most interesting stuff amidst all the crap…. 

“The… arrangements,” Owen said. “This threesome and when it started.” 

“Oh? You and Tosh and who else?” Jack asked. “Please don’t tell me you’re sleeping with that guy next door because he…” 

“No,” Owen said, rolling his eyes. “You and Ianto and Gwen.” 

“Oh, good,” Jack said with a relieved nod. “’Cause that guy is all wrong for you. I think he likes that shepard down the street a little too much, if you know what I mean. The four-legged one, not the two-legged one….” 

“Jack!” 

Jack brought his head up from the paper, frowning with hurt feelings. “Owen, I’m only expressing my concern for your well-being.” 

“I’m not sleeping with the bloody neighbors or their dogs! Are you sleeping with Ianto and Gwen?” “Well, sleep eventually did happen….” Jack chuckled as he put his face back into the paper. 

“Jack, stop picking on him,” Gwen told him. “Yes, Owen, Tosh, Jack and Ianto and I are sleeping together. Well, Jack and I sleep together, and Jack and Ianto sleep together; Ianto and I are happy as friends.” 

Owen considered it and rubbed at his pained head. 

“Well,” Tosh piped up with a supportive smile. “As long as everyone is happy. I had a date last night.” 

“Really?” Gwen smiled and went into a hen-huddle. 

“Hey!” Jack shook the paper at them. “How about you girls dish on your way across the bay to Bristol and bring me back this Arcturian cub’s skeleton that’s being mistaken as a missing link in the evolution of dolphins. We’ll give the poor kid a decent burial in our chambers until we can get him home.” 

The ladies took the paper with dubious frowns, studied the picture, and went to collect their things. 

“Find out where they found the kid, and see if you can get a lead on the rest of his crew and ship!” Jack called out to them as they went up the stairs. When the door closed, Jack turned to Owen. 

“Are we going to have a problem?” he asked, crossing his arms as he waited. Owen took a moment before shaking his head. 

“No, we are not,” he said. Jack gave a nod. 

“Good. Do a little research; museums, private collections, hospitals, universities, everyone who has taken in an unusual skeleton within the past ten years. That cub looks about ten years dead. His parents should have been found near him. The skeletons might have been mistaken for small whales. A little larger than a manatee.” 

Owen returned Jack’s nod. “Got it.” The emphasis was not on the order. 

Whatever had happened between Gwen and Owen had been over soon after it had started a couple years earlier when Gwen first came to Torchwood. From the giddiness and smoldering looks they continually shot each other, and then nothing except sniping until they settled into the new routine, Jack was pretty sure the entire Owen-Gwen thing had lasted only about a month. They quickly got it out of their systems and parted ways. If it had affected their jobs, Jack would have stepped in; it didn’t, though, and it never occurred to him to stop it before it began. 

His computer was beeping at him when he got to his desk. He moved the mouse and the screen came back on. There was a message waiting. Several, actually. Jack sighed and sat. 

The team thought he sat and read through old files all day. Sometimes he did. Sometimes he played RPGs against an unsuspecting Owen. Usually, though, he was fielding bitchy emails and IMs from world leaders who felt he had too much power for a civilian. None of them knew about his past; he had made sure his paper-trails were recreated every couple of decades. He was about due for another recreation, so he was thinking of taking a note from Duncan McLeod and looking up a death certificate to usurp. No, he thought, shaking his head; too traceable. Just start the trail from scratch. Nothing he could do about his face, but he was good at coming up with stories. Maybe a little tuck here and there to fake a few years. Colored contacts, dye his hair… blond? He shuddered. The thoughts were put on the back-burner as he looked through the emails. 

The parents of a certain young royal privately thanked him for the brat’s safe return, while the official stance was that it never happened. Someone had forwarded him an angry email from a Texas billionaire who wanted to know who he needed to bomb for destroying a tradition and losing several million dollars of his own money, and several hundred million of the club’s banked money. There was also an email with a report from several local, national, and international charities who received anonymous donations with between three and six zeros after the initial numbers. Jack smiled; Ianto deserved a treat for that one. Tosh may be able to speed her way at the technical stuff, but Ianto knew his way around the Information Highway like no one else. 

Movement on the other side of his glass gate took his attention. Ianto handed Owen a cup of coffee; Owen politely thanked him and went back to his work. Jack frowned, picked up his cell phone and dialed. Another phone rang. Owen took his cell phone from his pocket and looked at the ID. He turned and looked at Jack who was waving. 

“Could you come in for a moment?” Jack requested sweetly. Owen sighed, put his phone away, and dragged himself to Jack office. 

“You couldn’t just yell for me?” Owen asked. “I got minutes, you know.” 

Jack gave an absent wave. “You’re voice in my ear… I don’t…. anyway, why are you being nice?” 

Owen shifted his feet, tilting his head as he thought about it. “I don’t understand.” 

“You haven’t said one nasty thing in a week,” Jack informed him. “Either you’re on drugs or something else is happening. What’s going on?” 

“Nothing is going on,” Owen told him in a huff. “If you like it so much, I’ll be happy to verbally abuse you.” 

He turned and walked out of Jack’s office. Jack pursed his lips, watching the man walk to his lab to work on his research project. Personnel records were available at a touch, so Jack brought up Owen’s. A quick scan showed nothing out of the ordinary, no special dates taking place, no missed birthday. A glimpse of Owen’s background always brought a twitch of snarl to Jack’s lips; his mother had been a true bitch. She was an obese woman, now, with a failing liver and diabetic kidneys due to alcohol and bad habits. Jack could only assume that karma works. He wondered if Owen had had recent contact with his mother. Owen was always a little strange after those instances. Jack did a search on her name. Several minutes later he sat back, fingers tapping in thought. 

“Are you alright?” 

Jack gave a start, not hearing Ianto open the door. 

“Yeah, sure.” Jack tapped the screen closed. “Ianto, do you have a good relationship with your family?” 

Surprised at the question, Ianto was silent for a moment. 

“The family I have left, sure,” he said with a shrug. “Parents are dead, you know that; a few aunts, uncles and cousins around.” 

“Do you have good memories of your parents?” 

Ianto came in and sat down. “Is there something you’d like to talk about, Jack?” 

“No, no,” Jack quickly shook his head. “I think I’ve said plenty to last a while,” he said with a brief smile. “I was just curious. Your file says you were a twin. Do you ever think about her?” 

Dark eyebrows went up. “No, I don’t, not really,” Ianto said. “Bethan died when we were born, so I have no memories of her. What about your parents? You didn’t talk about them.” 

“Actually, I hardly remember them,” Jack said, gazing inward. “It’s been over 150 years; can you remember 20 years ago? Oh, right, you were about 5. Never mind. How about ten years ago? Well, try remembering 150 years ago. I have warm feelings, lots of love for them, but I can’t see their faces or hear their voices anymore.” 

“Jack, really; are you alright?” 

He gave Ianto another smile. “It isn’t me I’m thinking about,” he said. “It’s ok. Really. How are you doing after your kidnapping? Any anxiety? You seem to be sleeping alright.” 

“I’m good,” Ianto said with a nod. “I knew you’d find me, so I wasn’t worried. I am thinking we should have locator chips implanted subcutaneously, though.” 

Jack leaned forward in thought. “GPS’s under the skin? Good idea. The US has subcutaneous ID’s for pets; hasn’t caught on here, yet, though, but I’m sure Tosh and Owen could rig something up.” He stood, walked around his desk, and bent to put his mouth to Ianto’s head. “Knew I kept you around for a reason.” 

“I thought I was around to plow your ass?” 

Jack smiled on his way out the door. “That, too.” 

Several calls were fielded throughout the day from angry museums, collectors, medical labs and town officials, all of whom wanted to know what right Jack had in confiscating unusual skeletons. Jack called the Torchwood lawyers who called the officials back and read them obscure legal codes. Gwen and Tosh were on their way home with a van full of alien skeletons, and some odds and ends spaceship debris. 

It was just before dark that Owen began yelling and throwing things. Jack and Ianto came running, worried that something had crawled into the Hub. In the path lab, metal instruments clattered off the walls, tables and the surgical gurney were shoved across the room. 

“Fuckin’ bitch needs to suffer more!” Owen yelled. His face was red and wet. Jack’s eyes found the report on the main computer screen. Judy Harper had died of liver failure ten minutes earlier. Jack jumped Owen, wrestled with the smaller, wiry man, until they were on the ground where he wrapped himself around Owen, holding him tight. 


End file.
